Scars of the Heart
by Hopeful Guardian
Summary: An AU story. Flora struggles to cope in her new school but when a horrifying incident changes everyone's lives, can she still find love, friendship and herself?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Winx Club or any of its characters, that's Igino Straffi's job. However, I do claim to own this story.

A note: _Yes, it's a romance story but it will also deal with things like friendship and family and life and all that stuff. So don't worry if you're not the type that likes romance. I was originally going to do this story in Magix but then I decided to make it AU to have more fun. I decided to make it Flora x Riven cause I've always found that an interesting pair. This idea has been eating me away for ages so I had to write this. I just have to post this darned prologue._

_You'll notice I'm reposting this because I decided to keep the names the same after getting some advice from others. But, if you preferred it the other way, I'll change it back. _

_Oh, and the prologue is from Flora's perspective. Enjoy!_

* * *

When people talk to me, they don't look at me. They look at my feet or their own feet or their hands or the sky but they don't look _at_ me. They don't look at my _face_. They don't look at the _left side_ of my face. They don't want to.

I want to grab them and scream at them to look me in the eye. I want to tell them to look past the horrific mess of scars on my face. I want to tell them that I wasn't always this way.

Once, they told me I was beautiful. Naturally tan skin, jade green eyes, soft brown hair. The girl who seemed to have a perfect life. But nothing lasts forever. In one moment, one wrong decision, everything changed. My life changed. And now, when they look at me, they don't see my eyes or my skin or my hair. They see my scars.

They didn't treat me like a human afterwards. I was a monster. I wanted to kill myself, to turn back time and be what I once was. And I would have. But then the people who cared about me, who saw past the ugly gashes, stopped me. They tried to make me stop hurting. But I still feel it, as it fades away.

When I look in the mirror, I see a stranger. Who could that be, that girl with scars? She is me. I can barely recognize myself anymore. Most people try to look at themselves in windows and pools and mirrors. But I can't. I can't accept that she is me. I cover the left side of my face with my hand. I am human. I remove it. I'm gone.

I wish I could have gone back, stopped that horrible incident from happening. And then this and everything else that followed would not have happened. But then, I would never have gotten closer to him. The one who loved me despite how scarred I was, outside and in.

I remember the day, and each time I do, I grow stronger. One day I'll be able to look in the mirror and love what I see. One day I'll forget the scars. I'll pick myself up and live, despite it all. I'll see that I'm still beautiful, on the inside.

I'll look in the mirror and look past the scars. I'll look past the scars and see a girl. I'll see that the girl is me.

I will see myself, scars and all.

* * *

**Another note: Yeah, that's it. Confusing? I bet you're all wondering what scars she's talking about since Flora's face, last time I checked, is flawless. Don't worry, it will all be explained as the story continues. The scars won't come straight away but somewhere towards the center. Flora sounds a bit OOC but I couldn't write it any other way. Besides, if your face was terribly scarred, you would probably feel a little self-loathing, wouldn't you? I'll admit it was a little short but this is sort of a teaser, trying to interest you all to understand what happened, who the guy was, etc. **

**Please read and review! If I get enough response, I'll be more motivated to finish this story. Bye! **


	2. Walled Garden

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the cartoon Winx Club, that's Igino Straffi's job. However, I do claim to own this story and all the OCs within it.

A note: _The first chapter after the prologue. The prologue's only been up for a short while but I finished this ahead of time and was itching to post it. I'm reposting this and keeping all the names the same. Also, all last names are made up so don't start going around claiming that they're real. They're not. If you liked it better with the AU names, I'll change it back. I changed it because I got feedback saying that it was confusing, bad, etc..._

_ Flora is Mexican within this story so when she speaks with her family, there will be Spanish words popping up because she speaks Spanish with them. Don't worry, I'll put the translations below._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

"Seattle, mama? Why Seattle, of all the states that you could choose from?" I demanded, heaving a cardboard box full of our belongings. We had moved _again_, this time to the wettest and grayest city I had ever seen. And I wasn't talking about the chain link and concrete walls of our new neighborhood. I felt tiny pinpricks of rain as we unloaded our things.

We had moved four times in total in my entire life. I had been born in New Mexico, moved to Boston when I was five, New York when I was eleven and Seattle when I was sixteen. It wasn't that I was opposed to the places we stayed in. Compared to where we had lived in New York, Seattle was a mansion. We had never been able to afford luxury places anyway, not with the salary my mother earned.

"What's wrong with Seattle?" my mother asked. We were dragging all our things up five floors to get to our new apartment in one of the many decrepit buildings in the area. I resembled her closely although not in personality. We shared the same pale brown hair that hung straight, jade green eyes that spoke of hidden energy and tan skin, the envy of others.

"Seattle is so wet! And why did you make me go to a school where all the _ninos ricos_ study?" I responded. My mother shook her head at me, clucking her tongue in disgust.

"Flora, you need to be less_ acomplejado_. You don't see your sister complaining," she replied as we approached the last flight. Miele, my younger sister, trailed behind, clutching her stuffed toy protectively. She had been nervous ever since we started climbing the ancient stairwell that creaked ominously with every step.

"Mama, Miele is _six_. She doesn't realize that people are _prejuciado _against people like us," I stated. Our lives had never been easy or comfortable. Ever since my father had abandoned us a few months after Miele was born, taking almost all of my mother's money with him, things had gone downhill. Mama never told us why he left but I had always known. No one ever found him afterwards and Mama says he probably went back to Mexico, where he won't be caught and dragged back to pay to support us.

Mama had jumped from one job to another and I often had to work too just to pay the bills and put food on the table. We often stayed in awful apartments in seedy and rundown areas and did not own a car. We had come here in the moving truck. Other teenagers would have wished for a car and a boyfriend.

I wished for a better life.

* * *

Our new home was old, very old. It was the thirteenth apartment and the end of the hallway. I wasn't sure if it was a sign of bad luck but I chose to be rational and not believe.

We'd been guaranteed that furniture would already be provided though they'd neglected to mention what state it would all be in. There was a living room, kitchen, one bathroom and one bedroom. The floor had mysterious spots, some of which looked suspiciously like blood. The last occupant had ripped up a few floorboards and a dirty rug lay in a corner.

There was a television that seemed to have only four working channels and a dusty red couch that was torn on the back. The dining table was wobbly and had just enough chairs for our tiny family. The bathroom floor was strangely sticky and the taps seemed to be reversed, with the water hot when it ought to be cold. I didn't bother checking the state of the bedroom, knowing that I would be sleeping on the couch.

"Better than the last place though," my mother said, looking on the bright side. I grunted. Immediately, we heard noise all around us. The person above us had his television up all the way while the person next door had his stereo on full blast. Mama screamed at them to shut up while I just stood there, feeling sick.

"Home sweet home," I muttered, "Home sweet home."

* * *

The couch was lumpy. I felt drained in the morning and it being the first day of school for me didn't help. We had moved at the worst time, the middle of October. I would look like a freak and feel awful. But I had perfected the art of not feeling anything at all.

Breakfast was cereal in my chipped bowl and I ate quickly. I didn't know why we moved. My mother seems to think it will help us and she can find a better job. Well, it doesn't. Here in Seattle, she's working as a receptionist in some dingy motel where people probably go to have a little 'fun'.

"Don't be so nervous. And what are you wearing?" she demanded. She had picked up on my anxiety. I frowned and stared at my outfit. I wore an old gray hoodie, pink shirt, blue jeans and sneakers. Perhaps it was a little plain compared to what others might wear but I didn't really see any problem with it.

"Why are you always hiding your face? Always so shy? You're pretty girl, easy to find many friends. Stop being so_ acomplejado_!" I said nothing, something that often happens and put my dishes in the sink. I kissed her cheek, ruffled Miele's hair and was out the door before she could finish her rant.

The neighborhood was already awake or at least, barely alive. I noticed a bunch of teenagers passing around a single cigarette and a homeless guy camped out beneath some pretty vulgar graffiti. I ran my fingers across the gray walls of the boarded up buildings. It was hard to find space that remained bare beneath all the mess. Some of the graffiti was colorful, almost like art work but others were clearly gang related.

It was like all other neighborhoods that I had lived in. People had covered their windows just as they closed their eyes. They didn't want to see any longer, see the misery around them. They had turned their backs and emptied their hearts. It gave an almost hopeless feel. I didn't really mind, I knew this feeling all too well.

I tried to think of anything but school as I rode the dented bus straight to my least favorite hellhole. And then it appeared before me. It was huge, it was white, it screamed "LOOK AT ME!" The school parking lot was filled with cars, many of which were light years out of my mom's budget.

It got worse as I stepped off the bus. Hundreds of students littered the steps, racing in, almost all of them in branded clothes. I looked down at my own attire, suddenly feeling naked and exposed. Eyes followed me as I trudged up the steps. _Why on Earth was I here?_ Mom had chosen the school out of two others, feeling this one would be better for me. I would have gone to the one with juvenile delinquents and drugs any day.

People were texting away, almost as though their lives depended on it. Couples flirted, girls gossiped, others joked and teased and bullied; it was high school at its finest. I also noticed, to my mounting horror, that there was not a single Mexican student around. There were some African Americans and Asians but almost everyone was _white_.

I began to spot the cliques and gangs of the school and knew that soon I would be faced with the same problem of choosing. So far, my choice had always been the same.

Be the girl that blends in with the lockers and whom nobody knows. It was safer that way. Maybe it was hard, building up the walls but it helped. Whenever I tried to make an effort, to be a friend, I just got hurt. So I stopped caring. Everyday the walls grew thicker and thicker around me and I sensed that I was losing myself, making Faith too small. But I felt it was the only way.

I heard whispers as I passed through the hallways, all of them asking whom the new girl was. I threw my hood up and kept my gaze trained to the floor. I felt eyes burning into my back, knowing that they were judging me already. They judged what I wore, how I walked, what I looked like. I hadn't even said a word yet and they had me all sorted into which category of 'loser' I'd fall into.

It seemed like hours but at last I reached the main office. I approached the front desk, pushing back the hood so that my face could be seen. A bright eyed, cheery looking woman was typing away frantically at a computer. Her blond hair, obviously dyed, was made into a ponytail and her nails, or to be more accurate, claws were psychedelic pink. Her smile went down a few notches when she saw me.

"I'm new here," I stated simply. She looked me up and down and I could already tell what kind of thoughts were crossing her mind. _A Mexican from the wrong side of town…_

"Name?" she asked, her hands poised to type.

"Flora Montoya." She tapped away, her blue eyes never leaving mine. At last, she paused. She clicked at her mouse and the printer behind whirred into life. A single sheet of paper appeared and she handed it to me.

"Your class schedule." I reached for it but she asked sharply, "Your parents are legal, right?" I bit my tongue to keep from screaming.

"Yes, they are." I didn't bother telling the complete truth, sometimes it was better that way.

"You aren't doing drugs?" I considered making a sarcastic comment but decided against it. The odds were already stacked against me, I didn't need to make them any worse. I gave a single nod, grabbing the sheet and left as quickly as I had come.

I found my locker easily and as I stored my things I scanned the schedule. Today was an 'A' day so I had Literature, Physics, American History and Advanced Math. Joy of joys. I grabbed my books and headed down the hall, still keeping my face hidden. A few guys glanced my way but I didn't pay attention. In my opinion, the only thing guys ever looked for was the quickest way into a girl's pants. And I had no desire to be that girl.

A bell rang, indicating that it was time to get to class within the next few minutes. I heard footsteps behind me, then I was staring at the floor. It took me a moment to realize that someone had slammed into my shoulder and knocked me to the ground. It took another moment before I realized how much it hurt. It could have been an elephant for all I knew.

I looked up but there was no one in sight, just the sound of feet hitting the floor as they fled. _Idiot. Pick on the new kid as usual. _It was a classic trick, hurting the new kid to make them feel more alone than before. In one school, people had even bet on how much they could do to me before I broke down. I stood and brushed myself off, ignoring the many chuckles I had earned.

The last words I heard before I rounded the corner was, "And the purple haired bastard of the school strikes again."

* * *

**Another note: Yes, I know, Flora is a little OOC. Well, her life has been difficult and problematic so she felt that the only way to survive was to close herself off. Her family life was never explained so I just made this one up. I know her living situation sounds awful but that was the whole point, to contrast it with Riven's and the others which will be shown later on. Oh, and Flora had her first interaction with Riven, although she didn't actually see him but it's implied that it was him. And I do realize that the woman at the counter sounds extremely prejudiced. I wanted to do that to show how difficult it is and why she shut down and stopped listening. **

**Spanish translations:**

**ninos ricos: Rich kids**

**acomplejado: caring too much about what people think, insecure**

**prejuciado: prejudiced**

**I do know what these words mean, my mother speaks Spanish fluently and she helped correct my errors. So, don't start telling me that I'm getting it wrong. **

**Please, please, please review! I need something to motivate me! But don't flame me because you dislike the pairing. **

**R &R! **


	3. Cafeteria Hierarchy Blues

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Winx Club, that's Igino Straffi's job but I do claim to own this story and all OC that were created by me.

_I am totally exhausted but I have to post this. As of today, 50 hits but only...two reviews? Sigh. Ah well, thank you Chibi Horsewoman. No real interaction with Riven in this chapter but he will be mentioned in passing, along with several others. On the upside? Tecna and Timmy will be featured within this chapter. _

_Enjoy!

* * *

_If there's one thing worse than being the new kid, it's being the _late _new kid who gets picked on by the teacher and cruelly laughed at by their unfeeling classmates. If I didn't get to class on time, that was the fate that would befall me.

Rounding the corner, I felt my body crash into someone else's. Books flying everywhere, I hit the ground on my back. I groaned in pain, sitting up to massage my aching body. Why in the world was I constantly falling down? Was this some brutal metaphor for my life? I looked up at the person in front, expecting to see the purple-haired guy who had slammed into me earlier. Instead, there was a slight, teenage girl lying there, just as sore as I was.

She was wearing purple all over; purple shirt, dark purple jeans, even purple sneakers. All of this perfectly matched her short, pixie cut hair although I could see a few brown roots already stubbornly growing out. Her teal eyes were wide and staring at me in complete and utter confusion.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized, scrambling to get my things and bracing myself for torrent of insults that would surely come my way. But they didn't.

"No, it's my fault. I wasn't looking," the girl said in a clipped, tight tone. She extended a hand. "I'm Tecna by the way. Tecna Samuels." I looked at the hand. I had never met any teenager who had ever done such a thing. Gingerly, I accepted it and shook it weakly.

"I'm Flora Montoya," I replied, getting to my feet. I quickly turned to leave, just in case she decided to be mean to me now. But her voice stopped my feet from moving.

"You're new here, aren't you?" she asked. This was obvious, there were no other Mexicans in the school. But I didn't say this, didn't want to offend. I nodded slightly, itching to get away. I didn't need a friend, not after what I had experienced before. I started walking, moving away from the strange girl who acted too old for her age.

"You're lost," she said. It was a statement, not a question. I paused for a second.

"What class are you going to?" she prodded. Reluctantly, I pulled out my schedule and showed it to her. She beamed. "Perfect. I'm going there as well." Before I had a chance to decline her offer, she had grabbed my arm and dragged me into a classroom. The first thing I noticed about it was that it was impeccably clean. The teacher, a tall, slightly balding man was dusting his table carefully.

"That's Mr. Nielsen. He's crazy over cleanliness so I'd think about suicide," she whispered in my ear. I giggled slightly as we settled into the remaining two seats. The bell rang only a second later.

"So, who do we have here?" he asked, walking over to me. His eyes, big and black, seemed almost goldfish-like. Tecna nudged me.

"This is Flora Montoya. She just moved here," she explained. He leaned closer, staring at me carefully. I began to feel uncomfortable, as if I were some lab experiment that he wanted to dissect.

"So, Miss Montoya, what do you think of Literature?" he questioned. I wondered faintly if this was some kind of absurd test that he gave all students. It looked that way since everyone was watching me expectantly, wanting an answer.

"Um, I think, that there's…nothing quite like it?" I replied, trying to sound enthusiastic when I felt anything but. He nodded, indicating that I had passed some sort of invisible requirement. Turning on his heel with the grace of a ballerina, he walked back to the front of the room and began speaking in a 'Foreign Language'.

It was incredible what effect he had on the class. Everyone seemed to be in a drunken stupor, except for Tecna. She stared straight ahead, scribbling furiously in a weathered notebook. I watched her carefully, noticing how stiff she looked and the precise and almost mechanical way she moved.

_Maybe she's a robot. _Noticing me, she made a goofy face. _Scratch the robot idea. _At last, he released us and everyone shot out of class in a maddening stampede. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be free.

"It wasn't that bad," Tecna commented, folding her arms. I raised a single eyebrow. Shaking her head, she gave me directions to my next class. As I trekked through the hallways, I realized that I had made a friend. Or, at the very least, an ally in my fight for survival in this world.

I had walked into dangerous territory. To stay or leave, that was my problem now. I would have continued my thoughts but the voice of the Physics teacher stating, "Would you like to come back to Earth _now_ Miss Montoya?" snapped me out of it.

* * *

Years later, lunch came and I grabbed a tray, getting my helping of unknown mush and bumps. There weren't many tables left empty and I struggled to find a place to sit until I spotted Tecna waving me over, sitting beside a guy I didn't recognize.

He had short, straw colored hair and thick glasses that magnified his eyes incredibly. He had a goofy smile on his face, instantly letting me know that he was alright person, unlike other jerks.

"Flora, Timmy. Timmy, Flora," Tecna introduced. I nodded and sat down, picking at a particularly fuzzy lump in my food.

"Flora, where are you from?" Timmy asked, pushing his glasses up a little.

"I used to live in New York," I responded, debating whether or not eating the food would get me in the emergency room. Noticing my expression, Tecna laughed.

"It's pretty gross but it won't kill you. Just avoid anything hairy or prickly," she explained. I felt my stomach churn a little as I swallowed the first bite. I hoped I wasn't turning green.

"So, does Alfea High have a popular crowd?" I asked, trying to gag down some of the meat. Tecna arched an eyebrow.

"Does it ever. That," she said, pointing to the center of the cafeteria, "is the popular zone. No man's land for people like us." I turned and saw _them_. Their hair glowed with highlights. Their clothes rippled and shone, contrasting sharply with the dull attire of the rest of the 'kingdom'. Their friends were muscular and handsome men whose only job seemed to be to flirt and look good beside them. One of the girls caught me staring and sneered at me. I looked away, unable to meet her gaze and stand my ground.

"Come on, they _might _let you back in," Timmy pointed out. Tecna glared at him.

"Sorry, but I want nothing to do with those sluts. I chose to leave and I'm not going back," she insisted, hitting her History book for emphasis. I looked back and forth between the two, confused on what was going on. _Tecna _had been popular? I didn't really mean to be cruel but she reminded me a little of a nerd.

"What are you guys talking about?" I asked. Tecna sighed, running her pale fingers through her hair.

"To cut a long story short, I used to be one of them. I opened my eyes, saw how awful they were and dropped out, sealing my status as a loser. So, that's why I sit here," she stated. Timmy nudged her.

"Tell her whom she should above," he said, poking her head. Pushing him aside, she nodded.

"Listen real carefully, alright? The people I'm talking about you should avoid like the plague. Don't go near, don't speak to them, don't _breathe_ around them. Do you hear me?"

A little shocked, I nodded the affirmative. How bad could this people be if you couldn't even breathe within a mile wide radius of them? Some times I wonder why everyone looks forward to high school so much. Maybe it's because all the movies make it seem so glittery and perfect. It isn't. Not for me.

"See those three girls in the middle. They're Icy, Darcy and Stormy Willows," she whispered. I recognized one of them as the girl who had sneered at me. She had long, white blond hair, tied into a ponytail and hard, ice blue eyes. Her skin was like snow, almost translucent, which made her seem like a wraith. Then she smiled, and I felt cold all over. _She's no wraith, she's witch. _

The second girl had dark hair that fell to her hips and these oddly yellow, cat-like eyes. She was laughing, looking relaxed and calm but I knew her type. They weaved webs of lies, found your weaknesses and tore you down from inside out.

The last one had frizzy, purple-blue hair that stuck up around her head like some giant beehive. Her eyes were blue and her mouth seemed to be turned down in a permanent grimace. _Definitely the immature, temperamental kind of girl. _

"Icy, Darcy and Stormy? How can you take them seriously with names like that?" I asked. Darcy was a pretty normal name but the other two sounded a bit ridiculous.

"Everyone calls the blond one Icy, because well, she's kind of heartless, an Ice Queen. She doesn't care who she runs over as long as she gets what she wants. And she'll always get away with it since her father's incredibly rich and powerful and gives little 'donations' to the school," Timmy answered.

"And Stormy? Wait, it's the hair isn't it?" Timmy gave me the thumbs up. Tecna looked up from her History book and shook her head.

"You should be careful of all of them. Once, a year ago, someone in the school lost his family. Those witches tore him apart, making these vicious comments, hurting him, insulting him, until he was incredibly depressed," Tecna said, looking up from the book she'd been browsing through.

"What happened?"

"He took his own life." For a moment, we sat in silence, contemplating what hell a person would have to have gone through to have the strength, or perhaps the weakness, to kill themselves. "You should also be careful of their underlings. They aren't as dangerous but it's best to just avoid them. See those two girls, the red head and the golden blond? Their names are Bloom Peters and Stella Solaria."

I had noticed them earlier but I hadn't really seen any cruelty and hate within. Simply vanity and selfishness. I realized that Tecna had sounded bitter when she spoke of them, as if she had known them well, once. "You sound angry," I whispered softly.

"I used to be friends with them. When I left, I tried to convince them to come with me but they had already sunk in too deep. The power went to their heads. They used to be good people but now…I don't know what to think any longer. Sometimes, when I look at them, I feel like I'm seeing strangers."

Tecna stared at her hands, looking sad. She had experienced betrayal, at it's finest, by the people closest to her. I knew the pain and the anger, when you realized that the person was no longer on your side. It hurt.

"Who are the guys with them?" I asked. There were two, one with blond hair that touched his shoulders, and another with short brown cut.

"Sky Erin and Brandon Knight," Timmy answered, "Bloom and Stella's boyfriends. Sky's a pretty big jerk but he used to be a nice guy. I don't actually know why he puts up with Bloom but I guess it's what they say: Love is blind and he loves Bloom. I think Brandon hangs out with them mainly because he and Sky are best friends. He doesn't want to lose that friendship."

We didn't really speak after that; I mostly poked and nibbled at my food. Alfea High had lost its façade of perfection and happiness. Beneath lay the rotting core of hate and betrayal, anger and cruelty. I had only been here a few hours and I already wanted out.

I was so busy thinking that I didn't even realize that a new member had joined the popular table. I felt something turn in my stomach when I looked. His dark blue eyes seemed to be smirking and his sleeveless shirt exposed his powerful arms. But it wasn't that which I saw. It was his short, spiky, _purple _hair. I felt a dull thud in my shoulder.

_Who was that purple haired bastard…_

True, there were others who had hair that was dyed purple or roughly the shade to be mistaken in passing. But he was definitely big enough to have knocked me over and strong enough to make my shoulder ache until now. The others probably would not have been able to do so. Which meant that it _had _to be him. I felt anger rise in me. Just because he was popular, he thought he could steamroll over me? _Who _did he think he was?

At that moment, he turned slightly and met my gaze, saw the fire in my eyes. And he flashed me the most infuriatingly cocky smile I had ever seen. It was like he was telling me that he had won. That he was better than me. I glared. _The nerve of him! Who is this idiot anyway?_

"Um, Flora, are you trying to snap that fork in half?" Tecna asked. I looked at my hand. I was gripping my fork so tightly that my knuckles had turned white. Tecna slowly followed my line of sight until she saw him.

"Who is that?" I asked through clenched teeth.

"Riven. Riven Freeman," Tecna said, "Please tell me you're not crushing on him."

"Hardly." I watched him closely, watching him laugh and talk with his friends. I hated that such a jerk could be so popular, so carefree and I couldn't. It wasn't fair. At least, it was always unfair in my favor.

"Good. Riven, to put it bluntly, is an arrogant blowhard that, like most guys, has only one goal on his mind. A complete playboy. He used to be Darcy's boyfriend but he broke up with her. He's been seeing a lot of girls," Tecna filled me in.

"How do you know all this?" I sincerely doubted that Tecna had dated Riven. It was possible that she'd liked him but I had my money that she had feelings for Timmy although she had never had the guts to tell him.

"I used to know someone who dated him. She told that he had never cared about and he hadn't, not once, said he loved her or even liked her. Don't waste your time trying to get his attention," she insisted. I picked up my tray and turned to leave.

"I wasn't planning on it." As I walked away, I grasped that Tecna had confided in me a lot of things. Things that only a friend would tell me. But wasn't that how all my failed friendships started? Before I discovered that I had been manipulated and used? Was I just walking out of the cafeteria? Or was I walking out on her too?

I snuck one last look at Riven. He was talking, or perhaps flirting, with Darcy. I something bubble up in my stomach. It was jealousy, quiet envy. But why did I feel this way? He did not know me. He did not care about me. So why should I be jealous of someone who didn't even know my name?

I couldn't be jealous. I _wouldn't _be jealous. He was not worth my time. So he was handsome. It didn't mean anything. He didn't like me. So why should I feel any form of attraction?

As I walked out the door, I decided that I didn't care. I didn't feel anything for him and I never would. I did not care one whit about Riven Freeman.

Or maybe that was a lie.

**A note: Yes, I know, Bloom and Stella were never mean people. But I didn't want it to start out with them all being friends, I wanted to work my way to that moment. I also bet that you all can guess who the "someone" was whom Tecna was talking about. I know the name of their school wasn't very original but I couldn't come up with anything else. **

**It also appears our little flower fairy is attracted to Riven but at the moment, her brain is on a very different track than her body. You all are probably wondering where Layla, Musa and Roxy are. Don't worry, they'll appear. And yes, the Trix are meant to be incredibly cruel and evil, hence the incident Tecna was speaking of. Anything else I've missed? **

**Oh, the next chapter should have Flora's first real interaction with Riven and it will be explosive and frustrating (for one of them, at least). **

**Please, please, please review. I'd really like to know what you think so that I can make the story better. (But don't flame or insult me)**

**R & R! **


	4. Fury

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Winx Club, that's Igino Straffi's job. Whoever, I do claim to own this story and all OCs within it.

Note: _Yay, chapter Three has been posted. 215 hits and...three reviews. Thank you anika22 for reviewing. Sigh, it makes me sad that there are so few comments you all want to make. Is my story that horrible? _

_Anyway, as promised, Flora's first true interaction with Riven. Flora will be frustrated and angry! I admit, this chapter is a little short; it was originally part of a longer chapter but I trimmed it down so that it would flow better. Also, Riven will be quite an idiot -in the annoying sense- but don't worry, he won't be that way forever. _

_So, enjoy!

* * *

_

I don't like men. I do not trust them, nor will I ever. I have had enough experience to learn that they aren't worth the heartbreak that they bring. So why did I keep thinking of Riven? Stupid hormones. My body turns against me whenever I see a cute male. I sincerely hoped puberty would end quickly so that I continue existing without men.

After what seemed like years, the time to go to my Advanced Math class rolled around. It was not my best subject but I managed to stumble through it, year after year. Tecna had told me that the classroom was on a lower level and I, unsurprisingly, had only minutes left.

I charged down a staircase, just reaching the door when someone smashed into me from behind, knocking me down the stairs and onto the floor. I moaned, sitting up after my third fall. I was beginning to get the feeling that the universe disliked me. My shoulder cried out in pain and I pressed it, wincing as I felt the bruise that was blossoming on my skin.

"Do you ever look where you're going?" a gruff, slightly superior sounding voice asked. I saw a pair of white sneakers, then jeans…at last I found the face of my 'attacker' and to my utter disgust, it was Riven Freeman. Grinding my teeth together, I stood, glaring angrily at him.

"Excuse me, you were the one who slammed into me _twice_. And I'm the one with the bruises here so _you _should be the one who needs to look where he's going," I replied. He gave a grunt, eyeing my skinny and unfortunately flat frame. Compared to him, my arms were thin sticks that could be snapped easily. I was so small, so weak, so fragile. If I angered him, he could have easily broken my body into pieces.

"In my defense, I was in hurry and it was a complete accident." It was a statement, not an apology. There was nothing apologetic about his tone, his smug face or his folded arms that proved that he could not have cared less. I felt anger, hot anger, at him, at the fact that he had done it on _purpose_ and didn't seem bothered that I had gotten hurt. I suddenly felt a deep bond with all the girls who had broken up with him.

"An accident? That hallway was huge, you could have swerved around me. But you didn't, you chose to barrel straight through me, just because I'm new and I'm not like you." My hands clenched into fists and I longed to hit him, to make this…_thing_ feel pain. But I tiny hands would feel like nothing more than pinpricks; _I_ would be the one injured, not him.

Riven frowned at me, his mask of superiority fading away. "Look, I didn't do it purpose! So stop thinking you're so smart and assume things you don't even know!" He was yelling at me and I wanted to cower on the floor and protect myself. But I had my walls. He couldn't hurt me…at least, I hoped. So I stood tall and faced him.

And I pretended, just like everyone else who pretends to be what they're not. I pretended I wasn't afraid even though I felt like curling up into a ball and hiding.

"I'm not assuming anything and it's pretty clear to me that I'm right! So there!" I'll admit, it wasn't the greatest or the best argument. But I was too angry to care. And then Riven did the most surprising thing. He _laughed_. I scowled, utterly perplexed at him and feeling more than a little frustrated.

"Do you know how ridiculous that sounded? Good, but just not at my level," he drawled, his former arrogance returning. I opened my mouth to retort when the classroom door opened.

"Mr Freeman, Miss Montoya, if you two are done bickering, would you be so kind as to grace the class with your presence?" the teacher asked, frowning at us. Riven smirked, gave me a jaunty wink and slipped inside. My mouth dropped open. He had been _flirting _with me? What kind of idiot was this?

"Miss Montoya?" the teacher repeated. My face growing redder by the minute, I followed him. I kept my head down, searching quickly for an empty seat. As if to prove my point that there was something in the universe against me, the only empty seat was directly behind Riven. Doing my best to look straight through him, I settled in.

Throughout the lesson, I glared furiously at _his _head. Even those awful- but rather attractive- and stupid purple tresses seemed to be laughing. I had an urge to lean forward and rip off chunks of it, just to hear him scream. And I would not have cared at all.

I realized at that point that several other girls in the class were staring at Riven, their eyes glazed while several threw me jealous glances. How ridiculous. They could have him because I wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, if anything, I felt that someone like him did not deserve to exist. Perhaps I was being unfair, furious that I was, but I was in no mood to be just. And I wasn't exaggerating, since Tecna had told me the exact same things and which had now been confirmed. So my anger was not unmerited, right?

_Of course it's unmerited. You like him, don't you?_

I don't even know him.

_You think he's handsome._

Do not.

_Hello, I am you so therefore I know all your thoughts. And you just thought that he was attractive._

So I thought it. It doesn't mean anything, stupido.

_You're the stupido one since you just insulted yourself._

How can we both be me?

_I don't know, you're the one with the multiple personality disorder._

Shut up!

_This hasn't happened before. Maybe only attractive boys bring this on._

I hate you.

I groaned softly, rubbing my temples. I was really going crazy now with all this anger. I didn't even know I had two consciences that could battle one another. I needed to get out of this school, _now_!

As if an answer to my silent pleas, the teacher, who's name I had not bothered to remember, uttered, "You may go."

Within seconds, I was the first one out the door, moving as fast as I could while trying to appear not to be running. That would only make the annoying smirk on his face all the larger. And if he did that, I would have punched his lights out, whether it broke my fist or not. I heard his footsteps behind me and feigned deafness, walking ever quicker.

"I was only joking," he said, his voice soft enough that I only I could hear it.

"Notice how I'm not laughing." I tried to keep my voice flat and toneless, sending him signals that I was _not_ happy. He would have to be incredibly thick not to realize so. Of course, this was Riven so I couldn't be certain just how smart he was. Especially since he seemed older than me but was in a tenth grade class.

"Are you always this grumpy?" Struggling to control my burning anger, I gave a true Riven-style grunt and walked away. I didn't wait for Tecna or Timmy –and definitely not Riven-, I just ran as fast as I could to the bus stop. I doubted he had looked back so I didn't either.

* * *

I didn't think I would be so glad to see chain-link and graffiti. But I was. I groaned as I flopped onto the battered couch, tired from climbing all five levels. When was someone going to fix that damned elevator?

Throwing my bag onto the floor, I switched on the television, hoping some mindless cartoons or whatever would help me get my mind off things.

_Ah, so he's on your mind._

I thought I'd gotten rid of you.

_Sorry, no._

I didn't bother with a retort, I was hovering to close to insanity as it was. I need to cool off. Without pausing, I moved to the shower, the torrent of cold water good enough to shock me to my senses. How could I have lost my temper that way? He's just one guy. What happened to the walls? And not caring? You have to be calm, girl.

I sighed, feeling better and more alive than before. In fact, I would have stayed there forever if the phone hadn't rung. Wrapping a towel around my body, I padded out of the bathroom and snatched up the phone. Unfortunately, it wasn't cordless so I had to stand there, dripping onto the dirty rug.

"Hello?"

"Flora? It's Tecna."

"Oh." A though occurred to me. "How did you get my number?"

"I looked in the phone book. I was going to give you a ride back but you just vanished. Where were you?"

"On a bus, dreaming up ways of murdering a certain Riven Freeman."

"Ah." There was a pause as she took in what I had said. "I take it you crossed paths?"

"You could put it that way. And you are absolutely correct about him being an arrogant, idiotic, annoying and _downright conceited_ guy. He's in my Advanced Math class."

"I see." Tecna Samuels, woman of few words.

"How old is he anyway?" The thought had been pestering me all day. He was at least a year older so why was he in my class.

"Seventeen. But he pretty much flunked tenth grade so he's repeating some classes. I don't think he's stupid; it's just that he couldn't care less."

"Sure about the stupid part? But thanks for the info," I said, twirling my finger through the loops of the cord, "It helped. I have to go, so bye." I hung up before she could respond. I needed time to think.

I noticed a note lying on the kitchen table. It was from my mother. _Let's see…coming home late as usual…make dinner…don't do anything stupid…smile because there's still school tomorrow._

Sighing, I sank to the floor, feeling downright rotten.

I suddenly wished that the cafeteria food had poisoned me.

* * *

**Another note: Yes, it's short. I promise the next chapter will be longer! I hope that Riven and Flora's 'bickering' wasn't too ridiculous or dumb sounding. Reviews are cookies which I need! Don't hesitate to point out what can be improved but don't flame or insult.**

**Anyway, in the next chapter, Flora will find out that Riven can be sort of nice when he wants to be. How? You'll find out...**

**R & R **


	5. With Not-Thanks

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Winx Club, that's Iginio Straffi's job. However, I do claim to own this story and inspired ideas from Winx Club.

Note: _Chapter Four is up and ready. Thank you Chibi Horsewoman and Florafan 4 ever for reviewing, bringing the grand total up to five. _

_As promised, Flora will discover that Riven can be a little nice to her. Roxy will also be featured within this chapter along with Diaspro and Amaryl in passing. Please enjoy!

* * *

_Days passed. October crept ever closer towards November. Autumn edged nearer and nearer to winter. Riven, to no one's surprise, was still being an immense jerk and thorn in my side. I suppose some things never change. Proving this point, I was still angry at him. But not as much as before. Yes, he was an idiot who loved it when I squirmed and became flustered. Still, I couldn't allow him to get to me. Then I would be falling into his perfectly laid trap.

It was the number one rule of high school: Don't ever, under any circumstances, grab the bait. And I didn't. I completely ignored him. In fact, I became so good at looking through him that Tecna accused me of going a little blind.

True, we didn't have any _real _explosive arguments, more of jibes, insults and the occasional "accidental" crashing into me that Riven seemed to be so terribly good at. Funny how clumsy he can be for a very muscular and sporty person. I didn't really snap at him, although thoughts of snapping his neck came to mind, I just tuned him out. I sensed that people thought that Riven had a "thing" for me.

_Stupido. _Riven didn't like me one bit, that smug rich boy. Perhaps I was being a little judgmental. But isn't everyone entitled to be a little critical? I had a right to my opinion. But not anger. He wasn't worth any of it. No, he definitely wasn't.

Right?

_Right?

* * *

_

Halloween, the day of terror where monsters walk the Earth. Currently, me and several others were being held hostage by an evil demon that was trying to give us an education. Translation: We were all stuck in Advanced Math class when we really wanted to be outside, enjoying the fresh air.

All eyes were fixed on the clock, counting the seconds ticking by. We needed to get out of there, pronto. Well, almost everyone was watching the clock. Riven, was the only person who had his gaze tuned to the table top. Our math teacher frowned, clearly disgusted. Riven remained silent, glaring darkly at the table as if he wished it would burn beneath his stare. It did not.

"Well, Mr. Freeman? I'm waiting for my answer," he stated, foot tapping on the floor. Riven had failed to give an answer. My focus, which had been on the window, snapped back to Riven. I had been busy watching the leaves fall from the trees. It always made me feel sad. But now I was confused. How could Riven not know the answer? It was a fairly simple trigonometry question.

Maybe he was bad under pressure. Still, I couldn't help feeling just a very, very, _very _small amount of pity towards him at that point. I didn't enjoy being quizzed like that either. Maybe I could…

_So he doesn't know the answer. So what? It's his problem, not yours so don't get involved. _

Don't be cruel.

_He's mean to you. Why should you even care about him? Isn't it a good thing that he's getting what he deserves? Don't you want this? _

But…

_You're not seriously considering…_

Too late.

Pushing my inner voice as far away as possible, I leaned forward in my seat. My eyes flicked to the teacher. His attention was glued to Riven. I could have started dancing right then and there and he would not have noticed. _Perfect._

I leaned a little further. _A few more inches. _I inched closer. Any more and I would have been standing. Then again, no one was really watching me, more focused on the phones and magazines hidden beneath their desks. Finally, I was just a breath away. _Good. _

Softly, in a low voice, barely more than tickle on his ear, I spoke the answer. Had he heard me? Just in case, I whispered it again. He flinched, jerking away slightly. So he had heard me. I'd done my bit. Now, it was his turn. Whether he chose to listen or not was his problem, not mine.

_You want him…_

I don't want to hear it.

My heart began to pound in my ears. _Answer already! _Was he too proud to try? It was only a math question, really. Besides, everyone would assume that _he_ had come up with the answer, not the strange Mexican girl sitting behind.

"If you don't know the answer Mr. Freeman, just say so. You're only dragging out your own torture," the teacher commented dully. Finally, Riven moved. And he said it. He said my answer. For once in his life, Riven Freeman had _listened_. I had to mark this day on my calendar.

I wanted to stand up and cheer. Thankfully, I chose to simply place a rather goofy smile on my face. That is, until the girl next to me gave me several strange looks. I stopped.

* * *

When I walked out of class though, I felt a little…upset. But what was I expecting? Thanks? From _Riven_? Of course he would just walk away, melt into the crowd and pretend that the answer had never come from me. Why would he even bother trying to acknowledge my help? Frowning, I stomped harder on the floor, imagining it was his face.

"Hey, wait!" someone yelled. I turned around. Riven. He ran up to me, clutching his books. I kept my face impassive. "Did you give me the answer to that question?" _Huh?_ That was definitely not what I had expected him to say. Sometimes I feel males are incredibly dense. Obviously it was me! Did he think that the goth girl who sat next to me had told him?

"Yes, it was me," I replied. He was looking at his feet, as though he were…embarrassed? What in the world? Riven was never ashamed or embarrassed or anything like that. Where was the cocky smirk, the arrogance?

"Listen, this is going to sound stupid, but, what's your name?" he asked. If a feather could have knocked me over, a ton of bricks would have squashed me flat. This guy, who had been tormenting me for _weeks _now, didn't know my damn name? I wanted to slap him there, in the middle of the hallway. At the same time, I was also thinking : _Why me? _

_Ahh, so you wanted him to know our name._

I thought you didn't like Riven.

_I don't have to. I'm just here to annoy you._

"What?" I choked out. Riven cringed slightly. I must have screeched that. But really! How dumb was Riven?

"Chill. I do happen to know your last name," he stated defensively.

"Yeah, only because the teachers say it," I muttered darkly. Taking a deep breath I said, "It's Flora. Flora Montoya." Then I began to walk away. Why had I even bothered helping him?

"Hey Flora!" he yelled across the hallway. A million heads turned, mine included. He grinned. "Um, thanks?" I stood there, shell shocked, a thin smile gracing my face. I wanted to reply but when I looked again, he was already gone.

* * *

I continued on my journey towards the exit when I heard two loud voices. A platinum blond and a red head had started a discussion.

"Did you see that? The way he thanked her?" the red head cried out in frustration. I paused. Were they talking about _that_? No, they couldn't be, could they? The red head looked a little disgusted. It appeared that Riven had broken a lot of hearts.

"Yeah. Now she's going to throw herself at him, just like Bloom threw herself at _my _boyfriend," the blond replied. She was pouting sulkily. From her extravagant clothes, I concluded that she was a rich girl used to getting her way. Then again, if you had your boyfriend stolen, it did give you the right to be a little frustrated. Apparently, her friend did not agree.

"Oh, get over that Diaspro. It's been what, a year already? Find somebody else. Anyway, I doubt Riven would ever fall for that girl," the red head stated. Diaspro, the blond, glared at her.

"Me and Sky were made for one another, alright Amaryl? But you're right, Riven would never get together with someone as poor as that girl." Amaryl shook her head.

"Not true. He did go out with that Musa girl for a while. Then again, look how well that turned out. No, Flora's going to be crying like a baby when he rejects her." The two began to laugh.

I scowled. _Catty, bitchy girls. _They probably served the popular crowd. Well, I certaintly didn't care about them. They were totally wrong about what had happened anyway. Giving them a stony glare which they didn't see, I darted away.

* * *

I'd just made it out of the school gates when I was tackled by two purple haired girls. Seriously, was this some kind of fashion trend to dye your hair various shades of purple? The first, of course, was Tecna. The second I couldn't quite place. She had long hair, not really purple but more of magenta and purple eyes. The tips of her hair were blond along with several roots.

"No way! We're not letting you leave until we get the full story! Besides, I want to give you a ride home," Tecna said, seizing me by my shoulders. The other girl laughed. She was wearing a sweater with a paw print on it, along with a matching charm bracelet.

"What story? And who's your friend?" I cried as she dragged me towards her car which was, obviously, purple. Tecna threw me into the backseat while she and the other girl got into the front. Tires screeching, we peeled away from the curb. I was almost tempted to write: HELP I'M BEING KIDNAPPED but I didn't have lipstick or paper handy.

"Flora, this is Roxy Lewis. Roxy, Flora and vice versa," Tecna stated.

"Hey. Tecna's told me all about you but guess she didn't mention me, huh? Well, I'm not a person to avoid since I live on the fringe, hanging with everyone. So, tell all," the girl said, very fast. Feeling dizzy and more than a little perplexed, I blinked.

"What story?" I repeated. Tecna turned another bend. She drove fast, though under the speed limit.

"Come on, don't play dumb. Riven! Everyone heard him thank you," Roxy replied, almost jumping up and down the excitement. I blushed. _Ah, that. _What did she mean by everyone? He hadn't exactly grabbed a mike and told the entire student body. Did news travel that fast?

"How did you find out?" I asked.

"Well, I heard it from Lucy who heard it from Amaryl who heard it from Diaspro who heard it from Darcy who is pissed," Roxy replied nonchalantly. I gulped, hearing the name of Riven's ex-girlfriend. Did she think that I was trying to steal him? But how could I steal him when he was single? Not that was going to.

_Sure about that?_

Yes, I'm sure.

_Really?_

Well…

_Oh come on. I felt your heart do somersaults when he said thanks. _

It did not!

_I see you still haven't grasped the concept that I know and feel everything you do._

It did not do somersaults.

_It bounced._

Hearts don't bounce.

_Yours did._

"Um, Earth calling Flora. Do you read me?" Roxy asked. I jumped. I really needed to find a solution to keeping my inner voice in check. People were beginning to suspect I was crazy.

"Why is Darcy mad? And just how pissed is she?" Tecna swerved around another car.

"In her mind, Riven is still technically hers. But don't worry, she can't really claim him since _he _broke up with her, so for now, you're safe. As for her rage, on the scale of one to ten, she's five hundred. Also, you didn't tell me where you lived," Tecna said. Hurriedly, I gave her directions for an area that wasn't too far from my neighborhood. I wasn't quite ready for her and Roxy to see it.

"But that's not the point. You haven't told us what happened!" Roxy insisted. I sighed.

"There wasn't anything too it. He needed help, I helped, he said thanks. End of story." Roxy and Tecna looked at each other and shook their heads.

"Nope, we're not letting you off that easily. We want details!" I scowled. This girl had a knack for breaking down defenses. I would have to be careful. I wasn't sure if I trusted her, seeing as she 'hung with everyone'.

"He couldn't solve a math problem. I had the answer. I gave it to him. That was it. Nothing romantic," I stated firmly. They were really making too big a deal out of it.

"Just like Roxy then, who refuses to even give boys the time of day," Tecna commented. Roxy punched her playfully.

"Yeah, like you're so giant expert on this kind of stuff. Besides I," she declared with a toss of her hair, "Am and will always be, a glorious single." Tecna arched an eyebrow.

"What about poor Artu?" Roxy laughed.

"Artu and I will always be friends and I don't think we're ready to go down that path, even though I wish we could," she replied dramatically, the two bursting into a fit of giggles. I looked back and forth between them. What was so funny?

"Roxy, who's Artu?" I asked. Tecna snorted.

"Artu," she said, suppressing a giggle, "is Roxy's pet dog."

"Oh." I snickered, just a bit. It wasn't really that funny. "But you're right. I have no interest in guys whatsoever."

"You go girl," Roxy agreed. Tecna rolled her eyes.

"Riven seems to like you though," she stated slyly. She wanted a reaction and she got it. I blushed furiously.

_Riven likes you…_

He does not. It's just gossip.

_Is it?_

Yes!

_I can tell you're llllyyyying!_

"He was just being…polite," I insisted. Already, I knew that sounded ridiculous. This was Riven, king of insolence and rudeness. Roxy and Tecna knew it too. I was so busy arguing with my inner self though that I almost missed what Roxy said.

"Polite, I don't think so. Riven is hardly ever that nice unless it's with a friend and even so, rarely. No, I think that Riven definitely likes you, Flora," Roxy declared.

* * *

**A.N. Love guru Roxy has spoken! Hmm, looks like Riven can be nice to Flora. Yeah, it is pretty dumb of him not to know her name. Flora's inner voice is really giving her a hard time but don't worry, eventually she'll fix it. Also, I don't really know what Amaryl's personality is like. She wasn't seen very often but I gathered the fact that she can be a bit catty at times. And Diaspro's here too. Lot of gossip flying around about the two so it won't be long before there's a full on confrontation with the Icy, Darcy and Stormy. **

**In the next chapter: A certain dark haired stranger wanders into Flora's life. Won't Riven be jealous? What will happen? Stay tuned...**

**R & R **


	6. Helia

**Disclaimer: **I do not claim to own Winx Club at all. But I will claim to own this story.

Note: _I am so, so, so, so, very, very sorry for not updating for a while. I've been very busy and preoccupied with other things plus I've been utterly exhausted and needed a break. But I finally got enough energy and time to finish writing this and everything. So, finally, here is Chapter Five where Helia will debut and Bloom and Stella will finally have speaking roles. Enjoy!

* * *

_

Up until this point, I had never had an actual run in with _them_. The popular people, the ones who ruled. They hadn't tried anything yet, yet being the crucial word. But I was smart enough to realize that the war was far from over. And it had begun when Riven Freeman had crashed into me that day in October. I knew that _they_ would attack soon, I could sense it was coming. _They_ had waited and watched from the shadows for the moment to strike. I didn't know when it would happen or who would strike the match to start the battle. All I understood that it would be _us_ against _them_. Problem was that I didn't know which was which. 'Us' and 'them' could change at any moment.

But there were other things weighing me down and jumping around my head. Ever since Roxy had claimed that Riven liked me, the thought had tugged at my brain day after day. It wasn't that I hated Riven and didn't want him to notice me. But in a world where everyone lies, it's hard to know whom to trust. And I had long learnt that the truth was never what you got.

* * *

I would have kept thinking that thought for hours but something changed that. Caught up in my own little world of confusion as I walked through the cafeteria carrying my tray, I didn't realize what was in store. By then, it was already too late. Four people stood in front of me. Two blonds, a brunette and a red head. I didn't have to be an expert to know that they were blocking my way. I could have turned around. But I didn't. I always wondered why.

"What do we have here?" Bloom Peters asked, her blue eyes narrowed. A hush enveloped the room and all eyes moved to observe the unfolding drama. But I didn't need to look around to know that they would never get involved. All they wanted was some free entertainment. Involuntarily, I took a step back. It was only a fraction of inch but they saw it. And they knew that I had feared them, which gave them power, power over me.

"What a freaky little thing. She never smiles, hardly talks, just sits there looking so blank and lost and…_afraid_," Stella Solaria purred. I felt so jealous looking at that girl who was, in every way, like a life-sized Barbie doll. She was perfect and I envied it.

"I'm not afraid," I said, "Why would I be afraid?"

"Now, now, don't tell us lies. We all know that you're such a weak little thing," Stella hissed. My face grew hot. I hated her. I hated them. That was not true!

"That's not true!" I blurted out, my mouth linked to my brain. Bloom shook her head, almost as though she were ashamed of me.

"Oh, don't worry Flora, we all already know that you want Riven. But I was talking to him just now and he told me that he thought you're _pathetic_," Bloom said. She smirked. "Didn't you realize that he only befriended someone as poor and hopeless as _you_ out of _pity_?" I didn't want to hear her horrible voice sting my ears, didn't want to listen to the words that came from those pretty, perfect lips. Most of all I didn't want to feel that it was true.

Tears pricked my eyes. Of course that was the reason. He had never cared. And now I wanted to be alone in my pity party. I tried to halt the flow but they had already seen.

"Yes, cry to mommy like a good little girl. Cry because you know it's true," Stella chuckled. Sky made to move around me, instead 'accidentally' kicking me in the shins, sending me sprawling. They were laughing and it felt like the whole universe was taking pleasure from my misery.

"Hey, leave her alone. She didn't do anything wrong," a voice said. Male, but one I didn't recognize. Bloom frowned, folding her arms across her chest, looking annoyed.

"You always have to ruin all the fun, don't you, Helia?" she muttered bitterly. Helia? Who was Helia? And wasn't Helia a girl's name? Someone offered me a hand and I accepted it, pulled quickly to my feet. I discovered that the arm was attached to a person. He was tall with wheat colored skin and these beautiful dark eyes that I was getting lost in. His black hair was tied into a long ponytail and when he smiled, I felt a thousand butterflies appear in my stomach.

"They can be pretty nasty," he commented as a janitor appeared to clean up the mess that my lunch had created on the floor. _He's so dreamy, so beautiful…_

"Uh-huh," I said, still a little awed by him. I wanted nothing more than to stare into those eyes..._Wait, 'Uh-huh'? Did I just say that?_ "I'm Flora," I added quickly.

"Helia Saladin," he replied, pointing to himself. "You're a sophomore, right?" I nodded. I guessed that he was probably a senior. _Keep talking, just stay here a little longer… _"I'm a senior." Bingo! "It was nice meeting you." There it was, that sweet little smile. I was melting and I gave a dazed little wave as he walked away.

_You are pathetic._

Leave me alone.

With one more glance at my- no, not really mine- own Greek God, I moved or maybe floated all the way to where my friends were seated.

"Flora, are you alright?" Tecna asked. _Of course I was fine. I was more than fine. I was on Cloud Nine with that dreamboat… _"Flora? Flora? Flora!" Tecna called, shaking me out of my fantasies. All the three were staring at me. For a moment, I wondered where they had been when _they_ had attacked. Why hadn't they come to my rescue? Why hadn't anyone tried?

"We didn't realize until it was too late," Roxy explained, understanding my thoughts, "No one would have helped anyway. They close their eyes and look away, pretend that they never saw." It was sad to think that I could have been stabbed in a crowded street and nobody would lend a hand. Another thought appeared in my mind. Why didn't Riven try and help me?

_Because he doesn't care about you._

But…

_Why would he care?_

He…

_You were a fool to think he cared._

"Someone helped me." The words were out before I could pull them back. It was too late, they were on the table and I owned them. Roxy paused, mid-chew. Tecna and Timmy both looked up.

"Who?" Tecna asked, her gaze penetrating my defenses. I couldn't lie, she would know. But why would I lie?

"Helia Saladin," I murmured. The pen clasped in Tecna's hand dropped to the table. It rolled onto the floor but she didn't try and pick it up. Her face was a blur of emotions. Anger, pain, confusion, fear and possibly…sadness? Timmy's fists were clenched tightly and his jaw was set. Roxy too, seemed shocked, her mouth open in a small 'oh' of surprise. What had I said? What had done?

"What's wrong?" I asked in a small, quiet voice. Tecna shook her head slowly.

"Flora, please tell me that you don't like Helia," she said. It was a strange question and one I wasn't sure I had an answer to. He was dreamy and gorgeous and amazing and…actually, I might have an answer, sort of.

"And if I do?" Tecna's head snapped away.

"No, Flora, do not ever like Helia. He's a…" She couldn't seem to find the words. Luckily- or unluckily, whichever way you see it-, Roxy could.

"Flirt and a womanizer who's only after one thing. He's had a ton of girls and all of them got the same thing. They were just objects, not people to him." I raised one eyebrow skeptically. "You do not want to get involved with him, not now, not ever."

"How do you know all this?" I replied. It was probably just more malicious gossip and rumors and would never turn out to be true. In response, Tecna stood, her tray in hand.

"Because I used to date that scum," she stated as she turned to walk away.

* * *

I didn't want to see Riven. I didn't want to believe what my friends had just told me. I wanted to hide away and put my hands over my ears and pretend that everything would be okay. Maybe if I didn't say those words, maybe it wouldn't be true. But Tecna wouldn't lie to me.

I walked as fast as I could out of school, running for the bus stop where I would be free from that horrible, awful school. But my luck had never really been that good.

"Flora, wait!" Riven caught up with me as I stopped to face him.

"What do you want?" I asked in the coldest voice I could muster. He didn't have any right to speak to me. Not after what I had heard he'd said. I knew that Bloom, Stella, Sky and Brandon were all supposed friends of Riven. I was becoming clear to me that I couldn't trust him, not completely.

"Can we put away the claws?" he replied. I scowled.

"I didn't realize that you talk to _pathetic _people. So, I'll put them away when you tell me why you're 'friends' are such a bunch of cruel little bitches and idiotic male henchmen who seem to nothing better to do than make other people's lives miserable! And another thing. Why the hell did you not try to help me? Why were you somewhat nice to me? I don't need your sympathy," I spat, moving closer to him.

"First of all, get your facts right. I never said anything like that. I wasn't nice to you out of pity. They're not my friends. I don't like what they do. I hang out with them for old time's sake. And secondly, I was going to help you out but then Helia decided to lend a hand," he stated, pronouncing Helia's name as though it were the devils. I folded my arms, glaring at him.

"Why are you all so angry at Helia when he didn't do anything wrong?" I asked.

"You don't know him. You have no idea what a jerk he can be." We were probably only inches apart but we could have been standing on opposite sides of the world. I was looking forward as someone who hadn't learnt yet. Riven was looking back as a person who knew too much.

"I don't believe it," I whispered. There was a second meaning to my words and he could hear it too. _I don't want to believe it._

"You don't trust me?" Riven asked. The question made my stomach flip.

"I don't know you Riven. I don't know who to believe any longer." It was the truth, or at least, as close to the truth as I could get.

"You don't know Helia either," Riven challenged. I glared at him. Was he jealous of Helia? Since when we were a couple?

"Fine. If it makes everyone happy, I won't get involved. But I'm not going to go all out and be nasty, like _certain people I know_," I retorted. With that, I turned on my heel to leave him behind. What I didn't expect was to feel his hand grab my arm and spin me around to face him again.

"Just promise me you'll be careful?" he asked. The smirk was gone, replaced by a kinder, softer look. His gaze was hard and intense and it scared me. I couldn't wrench my arm away; his grip was strong but painful.

"Am I that much of a magnet for trouble?" I said weakly. He grinned, just a little.

"Yes, yes, you are." My mouth twisted into a strange half smile.

"Then I promise." He let go, giving me the chance to get to the bus that had just arrived. I told myself that he had only done that as a friend. But as I climbed aboard, my arm wouldn't stop tingling from where he had touched me.

* * *

**A.N. An encounter with the 'bad guys'. Well, not the actual bad guys since she hasn't met Icy, Darcy and Stormy yet. But she will, trust me. I admit, Riven and Flora is looking a bit...unlikely? Well, I had to throw Helia in just to add "flavor". And we all know how jealous Riven can get. ****In the next chapter, Flora and Riven will have some time...alone to talk. Hopefully, I can get it up soon.**

**I don't know if it's the 25th elsewhere but Happy Thanksgiving to all those who celebrate it. **

**R & R, please! **


	7. as rain falls over the city

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Winx Club. Obviously.

Note: _Finally, I managed to get Chapter Six finished. So far, this is actually the longest chapter in the whole story, mainly because it's an important part for Riven and Flora's relationship. In this chapter, they will finally get time to really talk to one another and understand each other. Plus, Icy, Darcy and Stormy will appear! This will also give some of the reasons on why Flora seems so afraid to be friends with people and open up to them. Thank you Chibi Horsewoman and Anika22 for reviewing. And yes Chibi Horsewoman, I really don't trust Helia's pacifist act. Especially since he claims that and then promptly begins beating people up and fighting like a pro. Real pacifist. But anyway, here's Chapter Six._

_Enjoy!

* * *

_

I didn't strictly avoid Helia. When he was walking down the hallway, I didn't turn around and run the other way. Mainly because I wanted to act civilized and normal but also since that would have seemed a little ridiculous. And embarrassing. And stupid. Riven could complain all he liked but I wasn't going to act like Helia was the plague.

He- Helia, NOT Riven- smiled at me once or twice, gave a little wave now and then to make my heart do spin. That is, until I realized that he did that to every other girl and caught an equally similar reaction from her. My fantasies pretty much dried up afterwards. Well, not exactly dried up, more of, they were put on hold. For now.

_Your fantasies are ridiculous. _

They're your fantasies too, smart aleck.

* * *

After what Bloom, Stella and their brainless boyfriends had done, I thought it was over. They had done what they had to do, been cruel and mean and had succeeded. So why would they have any reason to hurt me more? Was I really that nice a target? That fun to destroy and hurt? By anyways, I figured that it probably wouldn't be that bad. I would be ready if Bloom and Stella came calling for a rematch. But I had only been handling the underlings, not the top dogs. I hadn't managed Bloom and Stella very well, truth be told. How could I expect to hold my own against the daughters of Satan himself, the infamous witch sisters? Exactly, I couldn't. Not at all.

* * *

The bell rang, signaling that this class was over and the next was going to begin. Thankfully, the next class was the last one for the day which meant instant freedom. I had a couple of minutes, enough time to weave my way through the throng of people moving all over. I flipped the hood of my jacket up, quickly hiding myself. People often told me I had a pretty face but I didn't enjoy showing it to the world.

Sometimes it was better to be invisible and attract less attention. To be on the outside, looking in.

"Flora, wait up!" I flinched. Those voices…I turned slowly and cringed slightly. Three, menacing, imposing girls were approaching. I froze. _No, no, not them. _The witch sisters themselves stood before me. Stormy was glaring, looking angry as usual while Darcy was the most relaxed and calm. Only Icy was staring at me with nothing but disdain and disgust. The feeling was mutual.

"Flora, it's so nice to meet you. Bloom and Stella told us so much about you," Icy said smoothly. I doubted anything they said was particularly nice. "We just had to see you in person." I kept quiet, noting how mechanical Icy's smile was. Their face seemed painted on, unreal.

"What? You're not going to say, anything? How rude. But that's just like you," Icy murmured. Many people whispered as they watched us.

"Can you speak? At all? Or are you afraid of us? Don't be, we're your friends," Darcy added.

"Friends don't send other underlings to make people's lives miserable," I whispered, trying to sound as strong and determined as I could. A muscle in Icy's jaw twitched. _I should not have said that. _

"That was a mistake, little girl. We could have been friends, existed without disturbing one another," Icy stated tonelessly.

"Friends? I'm sorry; we were supposed to be friends with _her_? She's so…poor. And ugly and weird," Stormy exclaimed. My cheeks grew hot. _I am not poor! I'm just…not as rich as you are. And I am not ugly! Or weird! _Thankfully, I did have some intelligence not to say these things.

"I agree, Stormy dear. What were we thinking?" Icy sighed, shaking her head, white tresses flying. I had a sudden urge to take a pair of scissors and cut them off but that would have been akin to signing my death warrant. I tried to hide myself deeper within the folds of the jacket. It wasn't working very well.

"Look at her. She's weak and helpless, always crying and scared. How did she survive in this world without being destroyed?" Darcy asked. _I survived by hiding. Being shy isn't such a bad thing. It stops you from getting hurt. _I don't cry all the time. I cry when I am alone, when they can't see me.

"Please, just leave me alone," I whispered.

"Why should we? What are you trying to hide, Flora?" Stormy demanded. I shrank backwards. Were they mind readers? Or just very, very good and reading people? Well, they weren't the only ones good at such. I knew a lot about people just by watching. Like how those witch sisters have 'attention issues'. They need lots of people to notice them to feel better and put down others so that they seem greater. It made me sick.

"I'm not hiding anything," I said defensively, wanting to run away. A wall of bodies around me stopped that from happening. Everyone was itching to see a fight break loose and were not about to let me escape.

"Are you?" Darcy asked, stepping forward, giving me an excellent view of her face. People say that eyes are windows to the soul. But when I looked in Darcy's eyes, I couldn't help but shiver. There was nothing in them but pure emptiness. "What are your parents like, or to be correct, _parent_?"

My breath caught in my throat. How had she known? A few words came floating back to me. _Father's…rich…powerful…get away with anything. _What connections did these girls have?

"How does your mother earn enough to support your family? Is her job enough? Or is she, like what many suspect, doing something else to help out?" Icy prodded, her long nails tapping her chin thoughtfully. My chest grew tight.

"What are you suggesting?" I hissed. The corners of Darcy's lips turned up just a fraction. She smiled but there was no happiness or glee within it.

"Oh, Flora, Flora, Flora. You innocent yet idiotic little thing. Isn't it obvious? Your mother's sold herself. She's joined the whores. She's a freaking prostitute!" Darcy uttered, stating a thought that I had never allowed myself to entertain. Rage bubbled up within my core. Normally, I wasn't an aggressive person. True, I could get frustrated and annoyed but never all that angry. But it was one thing to call me an idiot. It was another to call my dear, sweet mother a whore.

Fury blinded me. I lunged forward, eager to throttle that hell vixen and make her pay...

* * *

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" a male voice muttered angrily. Riven had appeared from nowhere and grabbed me, preventing me from doing anything stupid and foolish, such as murdering one of the witch sisters. Taking a deep gulp of air, I tried to force myself to remain calm. Darcy, on the other, was the picture of hate.

"Why are you here, _Riven_?" she snarled, glaring at her ex-boyfriend. Riven smirked a little, probably happy that he was getting a chance to irritate the already very vexed dark haired witch.

"I could ask that same question to everyone," a different voice said. Pulling myself out of Riven's grip, I saw an old, wizened lady walking through the torrent of students. People parted left and right to let her pass, as though she were Moses himself. Her white hair was coiffed into an elaborate updo and small blue spectacles were perched on her thin nose. She was dressed mainly in purple, her tiny hands clasped behind her back.

"Icy, Darcy, Stormy, Riven and Flora, stay here. The rest of you, get to class or you'll be late," she ordered. Despite her frailness, not one student questioned her. With the hallway empty, this woman, whom I assumed was the principal, observed us. "Now, what exactly is going on here?" she asked.

"That girl, Flora, she just lunged at us, she wanted to hurt us, Ms. And then that boyfriend of hers jumped into the fight too. We swear, we have no idea what we'd done wrong. She attacked without any reason," Icy whispered, her face instantly becoming pale and frightened. I gaped at her. She couldn't really believe that the principal would buy that story?

"Miss Montoya, I had such high hopes for you. And Mr. Freeman, I believe this isn't the first time, is it?" the woman said with sigh. "Detention today, for the both of you. I trust that won't be a problem?" she asked. We both nodded mutely. There was nothing more that could be said. With a click of her blue heels, she turned and left.

Once out of earshot and sight, the three witches began to laugh. "I swear, she gets dumber every day," Stormy chuckled. Darcy winked at me as she and her siblings turned to leave.

"Later, losers," she called, giving as a cocky salute.

"And you actually dated her?" I muttered, hitching my thumb towards Darcy's retreating back.

* * *

As the rest of the students within my Biology class fled to safety, I slowly packed my bag, trying to stall as much as possible.

"Miss Montoya, dawdling will not delay the inevitable," my teacher chided, her red lips twisting into a crooked smile. She wore her purple hair in a strange beehive style and her skin was oddly pale. Sighing, I stepped out of the room. Tecna and Roxy both cornered me as I exited.

"Did you really get detention?" Roxy gasped, grabbing my shoulders. I nodded. Seeing my expression, Tecna giggled.

"It's not so bad. Don't worry. I've never been for detention but people say that it won't be too harsh. Just try and make the best out of it," Tecna said firmly. I gave her a thin-lipped grimace as I headed for one of the empty classrooms. Riven was already inside, slouched over a couple of papers. A tall, hawk-like woman stood in front. Her brown locks were cropped severely and she wore horn-rimmed glasses as well.

"Miss Montoya, I believe you're late," she said coldly, tapping a ruler against the palm of her hand. I glanced at the clock. _What? I'm only two minutes late. Have a little mercy. _"But…," she said with a sigh, "Since you are new and have yet to realize that punctuality is of the utmost importance here, I will let this pass. Now sit."

I sat down at a desk on the opposite end of the room from Riven. Interestingly, there was no one else besides us. It seemed that all those shows that claim detention is where cool, misunderstood kids end up were wrong. _But then, everything they show on television is usually wrong or incredibly exaggerated. _

Quickly realizing that staring into space was not going to help pass time, I pulled out my homework and idly began my work. Minutes, maybe hours passed. The teacher cleared her throat slightly and my head shot up. _Please, please, please…_

"I have something urgent that I must attend to for a few moments. When I'm gone, I expect you two to behave yourselves. Mr. Freeman, I understand that you are already treading on fairly thin ice," she spoke as she left the room. Riven grunted, turning his head back to the work at hand. _I never guessed that he would be the studious kind._

"I'm sorry," I whispered, letting my hair fall beside my face.

"What?" Riven said, looking up. I blushed a little, realizing I had spoken too softly to be heard.

"I said, I'm sorry for getting you into detention. I should have told the principal that you weren't involved," I muttered a little louder. Riven blinked, thrown by my statement.

"Don't worry. Me and ol' hawk lady are good friends now, we see each other all the time," Riven stated wryly. I grinned a little. "Besides, I couldn't let you sit in here by yourself or get thrown in jail for murder."

"Oh, thanks," I said. Looking down, I realized that I had doodled the name 'Riven' all over my notebook. Riven gave a shrug and then turned away. We spent the rest of the time in silence.

* * *

It was close to five by the time detention finished. Gathering my things, I raced quickly out the building. To my dismay, the sky was dark with large storm clouds hovering threateningly above me. Despite the fact that I had been a resident of Seattle for almost two months now, I had yet to realize that it was a good idea to carry an umbrella with me. A drop of rain hit my cheek and I pulled my hood up, ready to sprint to the bus stop.

"Do you need a ride?" Riven asked, breaking into my thoughts. He had come up behind me silently. I frowned. If I said yes, I had to make sure that Riven dropped me off somewhere _close _to my home but directly at it. "Look, it's going to rain and I doubt you've got an umbrella. So unless you want to go home looking like a drowned rat, then come on."

Since I didn't really have much of a choice at all, I reluctantly followed Riven to the school's parking lot. Sitting there was a shiny red sports car, that, due to my limited knowledge of fancy cars, I had no clue what model or type it was. Still, even I could tell that it was expensive and light years out of my price range. Riven gestured for me to hurry up and I slid into the passenger seat, feeling a little guilty that I might be dirtying the leather. Turning the keys, Riven shot out onto the street, sending me flying back against the seat.

"Slow down!" I gasped, clutching the armrest for safety. Images flashed through my mind of people leaving flowers and crosses and teddy bears beside the road to mark their friends who had died in car accidents. I didn't want to see Tecna and Roxy and Miele and everyone else doing that for me. "Riven, please slow down!" I screeched. Chuckling, Riven slowed to a steadier pace.

"That better for grandma?" he asked, smirking. I rolled my eyes and turned to look out the window. Little drops of rain fell all around and I felt cold, even with my jacket on. "What they said, about your parents…was it true?" he asked. I twirled a lock of my hair and frowned.

"As far as I know, it's not. But it isn't really any of your business," I murmured. Riven frowned at me.

"You don't have to get all defensive. I was just asking a question," he grumbled.

"I'd prefer you didn't. I don't like talking about that." The car grew quiet as we both watched different things. Riven kept his eyes on the road while I watched the trees passing by. I muttered the name of a street near my neighborhood and Riven turned in that direction.

"You're a very distrustful person, you know. Even with people who are kind to you, you always hold back," he said. I looked at him, watching him. This wasn't the school Riven, the grumpy and arrogant boy I had met on my first day. This was different. A different Riven.

"It's the way I am. And I could say the same for you," I replied as he stopped at a shady, tree-lined suburb. I moved to leave, anxious to get away but he grabbed my wrist. "Let go," I said, trying to jerk free.

"You don't live here, do you?" he demanded, watching for signs that I was lying. I glared at him.

_Don't tell him the truth. _

But he'll know anyway.

_Don't tell the truth._

No!

"You win," I said softly, closing the door that I had just opened. Though it pained me, I gave him my true address. The car continued on its journey.

"So, why are you so distrustful? And I want the truth, not another lie," he asked. My fingers brushed against the window and I drew in heart in the water that had collected when I'd opened the door. Pausing, I added a broken line through the middle.

"I guess…," I whispered, "that I used to be trusting. But then, people I trusted, they were only using me. They didn't even like me. They were cruel. Boys used me to get other girls jealous. Girls used me to get things they wanted." I looked out the window, remembering those times. "Everyone has a ulterior motive. I finally figured out that you can't trust anyone. Not even yourself."

Riven looked at me as though seeing me for the first time. _If only he had seen the old me. The girl that was happy and sweet and cheerful and always willing to have a friend. But that girl's gone. She got hurt too many times. _"I can understand that," he said, "I know what it's like. But there are people that can be trusted."

I had no answer to that statement.

"Riven, your parents are rich, aren't they? What do they do?" I asked. Something in my heart told me that that was the crux of the whole matter. Riven gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"Well, my mom's an accountant and my dad's a business man," he explained. I didn't have to look at him to know that it was not the truth. I was good at noticing these things.

"Don't lie," I muttered. Riven gave a frustrated grunt as he glared at me.

"Look, my man dumped me as a kid, okay? She didn't want me and left me at an orphanage. As luck would have it, I got adopted by some rich guy who's head of a huge company. He gave me everything I needed and wanted. I've been living with him for twelve years," Riven growled. He looked so hurt and angry and I knew that 'sorry' would never be enough. People told me sorry when they heard about my dad. Sorry never made the pain go away.

"It might not help, but my father's left our family. He didn't want to be a father and support us," I told him and he gave a little half-smile. Riven stopped by the apartment building. I saw his eyes narrow as he saw the group of teenagers clustered around a cigarette as though it were a flame that would keep them warm. A busted car was smoldering in a corner, the rain killing the dying embers.

"Flora?" I paused and looked at him.

"It's hard to trust when you're hurt. You want to put up the walls, higher and thicker. But you're only hurting yourself," he said. I got out of the car and watched him drive away, without so much as goodbye. The rain drenched me but I stayed in the same spot, staring at the place where his car had been.

I had never guessed that Riven and me would be alike. Both of us had learnt pretty early that we had to be careful. We had to look after ourselves. That trust was something that had to be earned, not given. I smiled a little.

Maybe we were different in some ways. But I felt, in my heart, that Riven and me were similar. He had trusted me to say those things. And I had trusted him to speak about my past.

* * *

**A.N. Did you all realize that the principal is Faragonda? And ol' hawk lady is Grizelda? And that Flora's Biology teacher is Griffin? I know that the Trix's story that Flora started it wasn't that believable but remember, their father is incredibly powerful and he gives 'donations' that help make things easier for the Trix. And Riven's mother did abandon him in one of the versions. Or maybe it was in the comic. I'm getting forgetful. **

**Anyway, at least this explained Flora's problems. And it seems that Flora is trusting Riven now. Oh yeah, the Riven in the car was the 'kinder Riven' that he can occasionally be with Musa and some others. In the next chapter, I plan-hopefully- to introduce Musa into the story.**

**R & R! **


	8. F-R-I-E-N-D

The rain has stopped falling but I still feel cold all over. The water is gone but I'm still drowning under all my confusion. I had trusted someone. But they had they earned it? Or did it just give to them? Riven… was he my friend? Or something more? I knew he wasn't my enemy.

I did not know what to call him.

"Flora? Why are you sad?" Miele asked. She had wandered into the room without my knowledge. I sighed, sliding down the wall until I was sitting on the floor. Miele sat down on my lap, curled against me. Absentmindly, I ran my fingers through her short golden brown hair.

"Not sad. I'm just…thinking," I replied. Miele looked up at me. She was smart, she always knew what was wrong long before I had even guessed. Sometimes she even understood how I felt before I realized myself.

"Is it about a boy?" she asked. _Well, I guess it is…in some ways. But maybe he's not the problem. Maybe I am. _

"I suppose it is," I murmured. I thought back, remembering all my failed relationships. Boys who said they loved me while they watched other girls. Boys who couldn't have cared less about my well-being. _Love, that word is so over used. People say love when all they mean is, I like kissing you or I like sitting near you. _They had only ever wanted one thing from me. _I've done things I'm not proud of. _

"Flora? Please, don't get your heart broken again," Miele said as she stood up and walked to the bathroom. I watched her go silently. My bag lay next to me and I pulled my notebook out. On the very last page, I had drawn a heart that was cracked and broken and cut in so many places.

_Bones heal, cuts fade but scars live on. How can you break what's already broken? _

It was a little…awkward between Riven and me at school. We started off as enemies and now we were friends? This was a territory I had never charted before so obviously, things didn't go like they do in most teen romance books. We talked. We laughed. We were just…us. No hand holding, no sweeping me off my feet, no dancing. But this is the real world where a pretty dress doesn't make you look like a supermodel.

I was taking out my books for Biology when I spotted something that made my stomach churn. A thin, Chinese girl –that was slightly familiar looking- was talking to Riven. I turned back quickly and stared into my locker, begging that what I saw wasn't real. I looked back. She was still there, just talking. They weren't being intimate or affectionate, just two friends casually chatting in the middle of the hallway.

I watched the girl, wondering who she could be. She was pretty, actually, in a unique, rebellious sort of way. Her hair was as black as a raven and fell a little past her shoulders. Interestingly, she had added in a few bluish streaks in, giving her hair an azure tone. She had dark eyes, a mixture of blue and black. She wore punkish clothes, almost like a rockstar. _She's like Riven. The kind of girl Riven might like. _

_You are so jealous?_

I'm not.

She's prettier than you. She's cooler than you. She's got everything you don't have and wanted.

That's not true.

Admit it, you know that she is the type of girl Riven would fall for. You are nothing compared to her. You're just a girl, a pathetic, sad excuse for a girl.

I guess…

Riven doesn't want you. He wants her, only her…

"Flora?" I jumped, clutching my heart. While I had been standing there, consumed by envy, Tecna had appeared. "What on earth are you staring at?" My gaze traveled to the happy couple and back to my friend's teal eyes. Tecna arched one eyebrow and looked over. "Are you jealous?"

"Me? Jealous? Of course not," I stated, trying my best to make it sound convincing. Tecna smirked slightly.

"That's Riven's ex-girlfriend," she said pointedly.

"I thought Darcy's was his ex." Tecna shook her head as the Asian girl and Riven parted ways.

"Well, Darcy was his ex-ex-girlfriend. She's his ex-girlfriend. They broke up in March. Her name is Musa Huang," Tecna explained as the girl- Musa- walked down the hallway. I noticed that when Tecna had spoken, she sounded…wistful. Like she was remembering something and wishing for it back.

"She was your friend?" I asked, reading between the lines. Tecna nodded, leaning against the metal row of lockers.

"She used to be. But…she had a lot of problems. Riven, her family, just life in general. It didn't help that she, Bloom and Stella were always clashing. She became distant and well, I've never tried to get back with her," Tecna muttered, toeing with ground with a purple ballet flat. "Maybe I'm just afraid of rejection."

I suppose everyone is afraid of people saying 'no' and 'go away' and 'I don't want you'. But I've heard that for years. I've been exposed to this virus. I've built up anti-bodies. I am immune. "But you miss her. If she was a good friend to you, then why not try and get her back?" I asked.

"It's not that simple. The problem, really, is Musa's mother," Tecna said.

"She doesn't like you?" Tecna groaned, massaging her temples.

"No, no, not that. Look, please promise that if I do tell you, you won't tell anyone else?"

"Alright. Is she in prison?"

"There won't be anything left of you if Musa hears that. Her mother passed away when Musa was only five," Tecna whispered into my ear, "Now it's only her and her father. The one thing she wants most in the world is to have her back." _How strange. I will never have a father but I want one more than ever to make our family complete. Musa will never get her mother back but she will give everything to have her back. _

Promising to keep my mouth shut, I left for class. To my complete shock, the girl was there, flipping through a book. Now I remembered why I was certain I had seen her before. She had been sitting behind me since I had first arrived! Granted, I mostly kept my eyes on the board or on my notebook, not really caring about what others did. I sat down, begging myself not to look at her again.

Ex-girlfriend. Riven could still have feelings for her.

You keep quiet.

"Students, today we are about to do something exciting and revolting: Dissection of a frog," Ms Griffin stated, pointing to the tank of what I sincerely hoped were dead frogs. "Get into pairs and get started. Also, please refrain from throwing up or passing out as I am in no mood to get the nurse." People reluctantly began taking frogs and scalpels and finding partners. Realizing that I didn't have anyone, I turned to Musa.

"Um, want to pair up with me?" I asked. She looked up, paused for a moment and nodded. Thinking fast, I handed her the knife as she came back with the frog.

"Did you ask me because you're afraid of cutting up a frog?" she asked suspiciously, as she prepared to make the first incision. Seeing my face turning green, she grinned. "I thought so." Many gruesome minutes later, after Musa had finished chopping up her frog and I had stopped feeling an urge to throw up, class ended.

"I'm Musa Huang, by the way," she said, picking up her binder that was covered in pictures of guitars and rockstars. _I already knew that. _

"Flora Montoya. Nice to meet you," I said honestly, finding her to be a very cool and likeable person. So why in the world did she have to be _Riven's ex-girlfriend_? No, that was petty and childish of me. I couldn't hate a person just because she had dated someone that I might, possibly, well kind of…like?

"Flora? You're alright. Well, see you!" Musa called, already halfway down the hallway. I frowned. It was lunchtime, the only free time we actually had at school. Everybody went to eat and Musa was definitely not going to the cafeteria. _Library? _She was smart, I could tell but I doubted that she studied all the time. So where was she going?

_Should I? Oh well…_I followed after the raven haired girl, careful not to get to close and alert her to my presence. Musa kept going, past the library, on and on until she reached the old auditorium. Tecna had pointed it out to me, saying that it was rarely ever used. In fact, it was supposed to be locked but apparently, no one had actually done so. Bringing the point home, Musa pulled open the door and slipped inside.

Counting to ten, I went in after her. The auditorium was huge and dusty, filled with faded red vinyl seats and creaky wooden floor. The stage was wide with its red curtains pulled to the sides with gold cord. She kept walking, up to the stage, placing her bag onto a seat. Quickly, I hid behind on of the chairs, peeking out just enough to watch her climb up onto the stage. She reached behind a curtain and pulled out…_a bomb? A mutant alien? A science project? Riven? _Musa held a red and black electric guitar in her hands and plugged it into the amplifiers at the corners. _She must have put that there. _

Walking to the front of the stage, Musa moved to the front of the stage, opened her mouth and began…to sing. "_I've tried to understand you__but you're still a mystery. Sometimes I feel you're close__, __sometimes we're miles away_," she sang. It was a love song but it was more than the lyrics that go to me. It was her voice. Musa had, without a doubt, the voice of an angel, no, a god.

_One day you take me up__  
__and the next day you would bring me down__  
__stop playing with my feelings__  
__I'm about to lose my mind__  
_

But who was the guy she was singing of? Could it be…

_Just put your arms around me_  
_why can't you say you love me?_  
_And I can't take this anymore_

It couldn't be…

_I've had enough of rainy days__  
__just say you're sorry it's too late__  
__my life has just begun__  
__I'll be okay___

_That's why I'm walking out the door__  
__who can love a heart of stone?__  
__It's me myself and I, I'll be just fine__  
__this is my chance to shine so say goodbye__  
_  
_You take my love for granted__  
__I've been waiting for too long__  
__for you to say those three words__  
__baby open up your heart___

_You'll see what I've been missing__  
__give me a reason to stay__  
__or I will have to let you go_

Musa was singing a love song about Riven. She sounded angry and hurt and upset but at the same time, strong, as though she wasn't afraid of being single, of not having someone with her. She didn't sound like she missed him. The last few notes of the guitar faded away into silence and I did the only thing I could. I stood up. I clapped. Musa nearly dropped her guitar on her foot.

"Flora, are you trying to give me a heart attack?" she gasped, clutching her chest. I blushed slightly.

"Sorry. I was just…curious. And you're really, really good." Musa shrugged, pulling a case out from behind a curtain to put her guitar away.

"Yeah, well thanks to the fact that you've found out, I've got to find another place to practice!" she snapped, shutting the case with a slam. I blinked in surprise, shocked by her sudden display of anger.

"What? But I won't tell anyone if that's what you want," I insisted. Musa groaned, putting her face in her hands. _Why is she so upset? Why does she practice in an empty, abandoned theater? Why does she want it to be a secret?_

"Look, here's the deal. My father can never, in a million years, see that I'm still doing music even after he forbade me to. I keep it a secret and I do it where no one can see me. So, if you tell _anyone_, anyone at all, I will be dead. And so will you. Understood?" I nodded my assent, almost afraid of what this tough, boyish Asian girl would do to me.

"Why can't you do music?" I asked timidly, sitting down on the stage. Musa sighed, flopping down onto the floor beside me.

"Things are…complicated." _Why do I get the feeling that Musa's mother is the cause of this?_

"I know what happened to your mother," I whispered. _No, no, no! Why did I say that? _My voice had been soft but Musa had already heard me speak. Her face creased up, her hands clenching into fists. Her head turned to the floor as a tear trickled down her pale, perfect face. "I'm sorry," I murmured, putting my arm around a girl I had just met.

"It's been so long but sometimes, just one word or the sight of something will set me off," she said, brushing away the tears angrily. "Tecna told you, didn't she?" I nodded. "My mother loved music and I guess my father is afraid that if I love it too," Musa started.

"Then you'll go down the same path she did," I finished. Musa put her face in her hands and cried. I wanted to comfort her, to make her happy. But I couldn't. I barely even knew her, how could I make things better? But someone could. "I think, you should talk to Tecna. She misses you. She wants to be your friend again," I said.

"God, Tecna. I was fighting so much with my dad and then…I just wanted to be alone. I was sick of Riven, I broke up with him. I started avoiding people. I've been cut off too long to get back with them," Musa insisted.

_She doesn't want to. Leave her alone._

She does want it, she's just scared.

Leave her alone. She left by her own choice.

No. I'm doing this for Tecna.

I grabbed Musa's arm. "Come on. I think someone needs to see you again," I stated, dragging her out the door and into the sun.

Tecna and Roxy sat beneath one of the trees around the school, soaking up some rare Seattle sunshine. At my approach, both looked up, eager to see me again. They were probably wondering if I was avoiding them. How wrong they were. "Tecna, there's someone here who wants to meet you," I said, stepping aside. Musa stood there, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"Tecna? Listen, I'm really sorry about avoiding you and all the…" Musa never got to finish her sentence. Tecna and Roxy were both hugging her, holding onto her tightly. Tecna, for the first time, had tears in her eyes. I had never seen her cry or truly show real, strong and powerful emotion. Maybe she felt that hiding emotion kept you safe from hurt. Roxy too, was crying, hugging Musa with every ounce of strength in her tiny body.

I felt like a stranger at that moment. I had never known Musa before this day. I had not seen the friendship of her and Tecna and Roxy rise and fall. I would never so close to them that they would cry if moved away again and then came back. Unexpectadly, I felt sadness. But why? Had I not sworn of friends?

_Deep down, I've always wanted to have friends. I just never had the courage to try, to throw my fears to the wind and take a leap of faith. _That was what I had always lacked: bravery. I felt like I was intruding upon this sacred moment, a trespasser. So I melted away, went somewhere quiet and silent and calm. The library.

I pulled a book of a shelf, I didn't even look at the title. Walking to the very back of the library, I settled down, flipped to a random page and stared at bunch of words that didn't make sense. I was jealous of the friendship others had while mine had been doomed from the start.

"Flora? Why are you here?" Musa asked. She had come alone, no Tecna or Roxy in sight. I shrugged a little. "Tecna loves you; I told her that if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have found the nerve to come back." I smiled a little, feeling better. "You've been a good friend to Tecna and Roxy. So come on." I didn't move. "Flora, read my lips! We want you to be our friend."

I knew it was true. So I walked with her, down the stairs towards the world outside. "Oh, and I do realize that you like Riven," Musa said slyly. My cheeks flamed. _Was it that obvious? _"Don't worry. I'm through with him," she added, pulling a picture out of her binder. It was Riven but someone-Musa- had taken a marker and scribbled all over it. I laughed.

"I think he likes you too. I've dated him long enough to know when he's attracted and when he's not."

"And?" I asked, trying not to sound overly desperate. Musa gave her best Riven-style smirk.

"Girl, he looks at you like you're an angel sent to him," Musa declared. Something in my heart told me that Musa and I were going to be friends.


	9. a place in which you love

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Winx. Never have, never will.

_Note: Finished this chapter that has been biting at me for weeks. Weeks! Alright, Flora is not the only one who's going to be tell this story. Two others will be featured in this chapter to share their point of view. At the top of their part, I will write who it is, okay? I bet you can all guess the first but I'll give virtual cookies to anyone who guessed the second before they read this chapter._

_Also, Chibi Horsewoman? I got the guts to check out the Winx Writers Anonymous Forum. Thanks:)

* * *

_

December arrived at last. School ended. Things were…alright really. I had Musa and Tecna and Roxy around to help me feel…better. Not quite there yet, but close. Close enough for them and for me. They were happy with me around and that made me smile and laugh as well. Maybe I still had it in me to be sweet Flora.

_I always hated sweet Flora._

Your opinion doesn't matter.

_Whatever you say, Sugar Girl. _

Riven. I'm going to take my relationship with him one day at a time. No more fantasizing that it will be more than what it is. I'm not going to race to catch him because he's not running anywhere. We're just walking, at the same pace, side by side.

* * *

"School is out!" Musa whooped, running down the steps with the rest of us in tow. Tecna rolled her eyes.

"Musa, it's only Winter break. Just two weeks. That's not really what I would call 'out'," Tecna stated, elbowing her friend. Musa simply grinned and gave Tecna a little shove.

"It's still a vacation from school, isn't it? You should be happy Tecna, not moping around and studying," Musa chided playfully. I giggled, watching the two of them 'fight'. It was nice having Musa around, she helped keep Tecna grinning. Personally, I was with Musa. A break from school was something that you ought to seize and hold onto as long as possible. It was also getting closer to Christmas, which excited some people. I was sort of interested and sort of not.

My mother wasn't particularly religious. We didn't go to church or all that. And since we had no family to visit or to call or have around for these sorts of time, our celebration was just between three people. The gifts weren't fantastic and large or expensive. They were simple and small but I think those types of gifts have the most heart.

"So, is anybody here going to do something special with somebody this Christmas? Flora? Tecna?" Roxy asked, grinning with a smile reminiscent of the Chesire Cat. Tecna and I exchanged glances. "Neither of you? Timmy not planning anything _special_ for you, Tecna? Riven not going to surprise you, Flora?" Tecna scoffed.

"Roxy, me and Timmy are not dating. Besides, he's too shy to do something like that," she insisted. Roxy winked at Musa. _Tecna, you're so blind. Timmy is crushing on you so badly._

Roxy quickly rounded on me. "Are you going to argue, Flora?" I blushed, looking at my feet. It was true that I had been hoping that Riven might do something nice for Christmas but… He really wasn't the romantic type at all and I doubted I was even going to get a 'Merry Christmas' from him at all. _I guess I was foolish and childish to hope._

"Ahem, Flora?" Musa coughed. I glanced up. "I believe that there's a certain person standing around the steps, looking at you. Also, your face is starting to resemble a tomato." I groaned, smacking my cheeks in hopes of getting them to stop flushing. The others laughed.

"I think he's waiting for someone in _particular_," Roxy sang out. I shook my head. He was probably just waiting for a friend or something. Not me. "Flora, you are so blind." Musa grabbed one arm, Roxy grabbed the other and Tecna pushed me down the stairs until I was in front of Riven.

"Here she is. You can stop standing around like an idiot, now," Musa said with a smirk. Riven gave a small grunt and the trio slipped away, smiling and giving me the thumbs up. Eyes glued to my feet, I didn't dare look at Riven.

"Um, hi," I murmured, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. _This is the reason why not having boys in your life is a good thing. You don't have to go around feeling so self-concious and afraid. And I am very afraid. _

"Hi. I was just going to…well, you know say Merry Christmas and all. And no, I have not been possessed by aliens, Miss Riven-is-such-a-jerk," he grumbled. I gave a tiny smile. It was true, that had been the first thought to cross my mind. _But when he said that, I know it's still the same grumpy Riven. _

"Riven, what's your favorite color?" I blurted out. _No! _My hand quickly clamped onto my mouth to prevent anymore crazy thoughts being transformed into sentences. _Where did that come from? _Riven arched one eyebrow.

"What kind of question is that?" he asked, smirking at me. _I sound so shallow and two-dimensional. _

"Well…it's just that I…don't really know you that well," I said, rushing to continue as his expression changed, "Not that knowing colors does anything. I mean, it's rather superficial, isn't it? That wasn't really the question I was going to ask." _Stop talking! _Riven was staring at me strangely, as though I had just declared that I had magical powers. _Which is ridiculous since why would little Flora have magic? _

"So what were you going to ask?" I bit my lip. It was a silly question.

"It's nothing special. Just…what's your favorite place in the whole world? Because in a place you love, you feel comfortable to just…be. And not worry about what others think," I whispered. Riven frowned slightly.

"Oh." _Oh? _I nodded, scrambling backwards.

"Well, I have to go now, so bye. And Merry Christmas," I cried, turning and racing off. My heart was pounding fast and took several minutes before it quieted. I sighed, taking in deep breaths. I hadn't meant to say that. It was just something that I thought, that I believed, nothing of great importance. It had sounded so ridiculous, so utterly childish and immature, like some moral from a cheap movie. _You're foolish Flora. You hope too much. _

_Exactly Sweetness, you are nothing but childish. _

I had no retort to give to my subconscious.

* * *

Lying on the couch, nibbling on a slice of pizza from the fridge, it was official. I had absolutely _nothing _to do this winter break. It had been three whole days of utter silence and boredom. _It's not too bad, I guess. The peace is nice. I don't have to worry about anything. No walls, no barricades, no lies. Just me. _

The quiet didn't last long. Grinding on my ears, the phone burst into life, ringing as loudly as possible. Rolling over, I reached for it, putting to my ear as I continued to munch. It was close to dinnertime and this was closest I could find to food. I would probably give Miele some later.

"Hello?" I muttered.

"Flora?" I nearly choked as the voice flowed out of the phone and into my ear. _No, this is not possible._

"Riven?" I asked, checking to make sure my hearing was right. There was a chuckle on the other end.

"The one and only. Listen, there's something I need to show you." A million thoughts raced through my mind. I hoped that most were wrong.

"Show me?" I questioned hesitantly.

"Whatever you're thinking, stop it. You have such a weird imagination, you know that?" _Same old Riven. And my imagination isn't weird. _I didn't have the guts to say that, too confused and embarrassed. "I'll pick you up in about half an hour?" I nodded, then, realizing that he couldn't see that, I agreed.

Hanging up the phone gingerly, panic shot through me. Had he asked me out? _Of course not, we're just friends. _Has he been planning this for a while? _Don't be silly, he has a life beyond you. _Should I dress up? _This is Riven, sweetheart. He doesn't care about clothes. There are only two instances when men notice clothes. If they're transparent or on fire. So relax. _

Relax. Relax. Relax. When had I turned into someone obsessed with makeup and looks? True, I cared about them as much as the next person but not till I starting panicking over them. Checking the clock, I pulled on my favorite pair of jeans, though they were a little worn and faded as well as a clean pink shirt. Holding my jacket between my fingers, I decided to leave it behind just this once. Rummaging through a cupboard, I found an almost empty bottle of cheap perfume. _Might as well finish it. _It was floral- no pun intended- so I sprayed it and dashed down the stairs.

Minutes later, a red motorbike screeched to a halt in front of me. "You own a motorbike?" I asked. Actually, it was something he would like so I shouldn't be surprised. Riven pulled off his helmet and grinned.

"Yeah. And not to brag, but there's no one better than me at riding these babies," he said, full of arrogance. Tossing me a helmet, I got on, carefully gripping hold of him. Tire squealing, we peeled away from the curb and onto the road. Instinctively, I squeezed harder. "Is this the first time you've been on bike?" he asked.

"It's been a while," I replied, my hair flying out behind me. _There goes my attempt to comb it. _The bike was moving fast and I felt my heart begin to creep towards my throat. _Don't look…don't look…don't look…_

"You can look, it's not that bad," Riven insisted as we wove through cars at an alarming rate. I opened one eye to see the cars moving around as like speeding bullets. One shot by so close that I was certain we were done for. With a yelp, I shut my eyes again. Riven laughed. "Look at the trees instead," he ordered. Turning my head a fraction of an inch, I peeked out.

The trees passed in a comforting green blur, the bike traveling smoothly past. The wind was no longer shrieking in my ears but humming softly. Resting my head against his back, I watched the world pass by. It was amazing.

Of course, Riven couldn't resist pulling several stunts on the way to our mystery destination. "Show off," I muttered in his ear. At last, we reached the sea. We sped past busy wharfs until we got to the very edge where there was only a quiet pier. Riven stopped the bike nearby. There was no one in sight, the noise from the city simply whispers on the wind.

"Flora, you can let go of me now," Riven said. I blinked, realizing that my arms were still tightly wrapped around him. My second thought was that I liked holding him. My hands dropped and we both got off. "Come on," he told me, leading me to the very end of the pier. He sat down, his feet dangling over the water. I did the same.

"People don't use this pier much. They prefer going to another one to fish. Sometimes you'll see a person here but most of the time, it's empty," he explained. Then it clicked. Why he had brought me here. The question I had asked before. My shoes skimmed the surface of the clear, clear water and I smiled.

"So this is the place?" I asked. He nodded.

"No idiots telling you what to do, no teachers nagging, no anorexic bimbos trying to get my attention. Just me," Riven explained. His hand was dangerously close to mine.

_How lame. An old pier. _

Just go.

_Lame, Sugar Princess. Very lame._

"Here." Riven dropped something heavy into my palm and turned away. Slowly, I picked it up and turned it over gently. It was a locket, round with three red stones embedded into it and hung on an almost invisible chain. It was smooth and thick and probably very, very old. _But why? How? Whose is this? _"I found it lying around the house. It was probably my dad's. I think he wanted to give it to some sweetheart or something but never got the chance. He doesn't really like it."

I cradled the locket gently in my hands. "Thanks." Riven grunted and shrugged. _All this mushy stuff isn't his thing. Still, it was a sweet gesture, even if it only lasted about a second. _

"The sun's starting to set." We sat in silence as the giant golden globe descended into the water. Purples and oranges and pinks filled the sky, creating a picture more beautiful than what a person could ever hope to paint. We were bathed in light for a moment and then it was gone. The ocean swallowed the sun and darkness began to fall. _Who needs sparks bursting out of fingers and spells coming out of wooden twigs? That was magic. _

"Riven?" I whispered. He looked at me. "Thank you. For showing me this." In my heart I whispered, _thank you for showing me you. _He smirked but I knew he wasn't mocking me like he always was. It was a real smile, as close as he could get. He didn't say anything after that and I didn't either. Because sometimes a person needs to know when to just keep quiet and watch.

* * *

(Riven's POV)

It was late by the time I got home but it wasn't like my dad- wait, 'dad'- would mind. Our agreement was: No drugs, no booze, no smoking, no getting girls pregnant and I could stay out as long as I wanted. Which was often. I kept to the deal…mostly. A man's got to live a little, alright?

Driving into the garage of our mansion- if you don't believe me, go and…- I parked my bike and moved into the house as the rain began to pour down. Good thing it didn't come earlier. My dad was in the kitchen, reading the papers for what was probably the fourth time that day. Old people have nothing better to do with their time.

He is old, that's a fact. He's a sixty-something man with no wives, children or relatives, no matter what the Internet claims, who's balding on top and needs glasses to see an inch in front of his face.

"What are you so happy about?" he asked, folding the paper and placing it on the table. I shrugged, pulling a carton of milk out of the fridge. I unscrewed the lid, about to take a gulp when he continued. "Let me guess, it's a girl again? And use a cup for once." I kept drinking, ignoring him.

"Who said I was happy about anything or that's another girl?" I replied, slamming the fridge door shut. He arched an eyebrow at me.

"You were grinning as you walked in the door. Plus, you happen to smell of flowers, which means you've been around a woman recently." _He's been rereading his mystery books again. _

"Thank you, Sherlock. But that's not enough proof." He simply grinned, standing up to brew a pot of tea.

"What about that conversation I overheard this afternoon? You were telling that friend of yours about the 'new girl'?" he retorted, stretching to open a cupboard. I groaned. _I need to soundproof my room. _I didn't doubt that he had heard me; he might be almost blind but he could still hear all too clearly. "So, who is she?"

"You wouldn't know her anyway. Flora Montoya." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, as though searching his memory for some trace of her name.

"Montoya? Doesn't ring a bell. What's she like? Hope she's not like that Darcy girl. I did like the last one. Is she like that…Musa?" I rolled my eyes. As well as being incredibly nosy, my foster father also had a perfect memory for just about everything. It was good for names and addresses. But not when you were constantly reminded of past mistakes and girlfriends.

"Look, she's just…different. Nice. She doesn't do drugs, okay?" I snapped. _Great, now I'm going to put all sorts of stupid ideas into his head. But he was thinking it the second he heard her name. Damnit, is everyone in this country so freaking prejudiced? _He looked taken aback for a moment but then his face relaxed and he nodded at me.

"So you like her, then? Why didn't you invite her over? I'm curious to meet this mysterious girl," he stated. _Right, I'm sure she's dying to meet you. It took a ton of effort to get her to actually be on normal speaking terms with her, think of how long it'll take to convince/drag her here. _ I made a scoffing noise before turning to leave.

"Riven? One more thing. Don't do anything stupid and foolish," he warned.

"Wasn't planning on it," I muttered.

* * *

(Miele's POV)

When Flora got back home, she looked so happy, she sparkled. Flora doesn't think I know things. But I have eyes to see, ears to hear and a heart to feel. I know things. I know a lot of things. Things that I'm not supposed to know. But I do.

I know that Mama has a photo of Papa hidden deep in her closet. Sometimes she will kiss the photo. Most of the time she hits it and swears. I know that Mama dreams of owning a flower shop because like me and Flora, she loves nature. I know Flora has been hurt a lot. I know when she has a good boyfriend and a bad one. I also know all my times tables but that's not the point.

When Flora has a good boyfriend, she smiles and laughs and it's like how she used to be before. But when it's a bad boyfriend, I know. She'll cry at night and in the morning, she's quiet and sad and hurt. She'll block people. She won't let them help her. Flora is afraid of what happens when we help.

Flora is afraid of a lot of things. She's scared of life. She's shy. But she can be determined to do the right thing too. She can get frustrated and angry. She just doesn't show it by screaming.

I know her new boyfriend is good. But sometimes it's not the boy. Sometimes it's Flora. She's too shy or scared or she doesn't tell them everything. She builds her walls twenty feet high and fifty feet thick.

All I hope is that she stays happy. I don't want to see my sister cry.

* * *

**A.N. I hope this chapter was too bad. Did anyone guess that it would be Miele? I wanted to put her in because she's the one that sees Flora at home who watches and notices. Also, hang on to the thought of the locket, it will be important in upcoming chapters. Next chapter: Layla finally appears:) I do happen to love Layla, I just wanted to introduce her a little later so that Flora could get to know everyone better. **

**Now you have the whole weekend to read this. R & R! **


	10. Voices of Friends

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Winx Club. I own this story. Haven't we already played this little game before?

_Note: Yes, I'm back! No, it wasn't because I was lazy that I haven't updated. School has started for me which means homework, long hours and crabby teachers. (Breaks down crying). So, updates will probably only come during the weekends now. I will try and write as much as I can when there are holidays but I can't promise to update during weeks when I happen to have exams. That being said, I have finally finished this chapter, done during moments of free time. Yes, Layla will finally appear in this chapter. _

_So now, you can finally enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

Years end, new ones begin. Should one find it hard to distinguish between the two, since they're often so similar? They say live for tomorrow but can't anyone see that one will never get there. You're always existing in today, the future becomes now. It melts together, as one, why break it all apart?

And what of New Year's Resolutions? Sometimes, don't you think, they're like wishes that you make on the stars? You wish and wish so hard, promising that you will do it. Then, you try so much to make it true, but in the end, did you ever _really _make the effort? Or did you just hope the star would make it real?

I know about wishes. I've thrown more pennies into wells and fountains than I can count. I've watched the stars, the moon and begged for life to get better. But nothing ever worked. Wishes can't be, they're just words for dreams that can never materialize, will never ever come true like a fairytale ending.

"Flora?" Miele whispered, appearing behind me. "What time is it?" I glanced at the clock. She ought to have been in bed, but I was used to this routine. Every New Year's Eve, she would insist on staying up. So, of course, I recited my lines perfectly.

"Too late. You should be sleeping now."

"But I'm old enough! It's just a few more hours!" she whined. I sighed, ruffling her short, golden colored hair, a few shades lighter than mine.

"Don't you have to be awake at midnight, instead of falling asleep?" Miele pouted.

"But…" she started. I put one finger to her lips and shook my head. I lifted her up, not an easy feat, since she was getting bigger and heavier and my arms were pretty thin.

"You can make all your wishes tomorrow," I said, carrying her to Mama's room. _Exit, stage left. _

"Flora," she whispered, her green eyes barely open, "What were you wishing for?" I paused, mid step. I had been staring at the stars, true but I had not been wishing for anything. Or had I? I must have muttered my thoughts aloud because she kept speaking. "You were too wishing for something. You had that look on your face. Like you wanted something that you couldn't have so bad."

No, that wasn't possible. I hadn't wished for anything. I wouldn't have…There was nothing to wish for anyways. Nothing at all.

_Naughty, naughty. Santa should have given you coal for Christmas, you liar you._

I didn't lie!

_Of course not. You just 'accidentally' stretched the truth to fool yourself into believing that you are wishing for something._

Please, just leave me alone.

_Oh, bite me. You might not have explicitly said it, but I could tell._

Go.

_Whatever, just trying to be helpful._

"What was your wish Flora? I won't tell," she mumbled sleepily, her mind already halfway to Dreamland. Gently, I tucked her into bed, kissing her on the forehead.

"Night, little flower," I whispered, turning off the lights. I hadn't answered her question. I couldn't because I didn't even know myself. Sighing, I leaned gently against the window, gazing up at the sky. There weren't many stars to see, the city was far too bright. But still, there were a few, here and there, waiting to be noticed.

Certain that everyone within the apartment was asleep, I closed my eyes. "I wish…" I began. No words came to mind. "I wish…" I tried again. No luck. What did I even want?

_You sound like a fool, "I wish" over and over again._

I gave up, curling back up on the couch. There was no use, no point. Why had I even tried in the first place? A tiny, insignificant third voice, the most insightful, whispered that I shouldn't keep thoughts bottled up. I pushed it aside, but the words jabbed me hard. Was I still, really and truly, still not telling everything? Not expressing myself enough?

_Yes, you are. _The third voice, louder this time. I didn't ignore it this time.

* * *

Thanksgiving had been horrible. Christmas had been nice. New Years was…tolerable, that was the best word I could think of. I had lain awake for hours, long after midnight had passed, thinking. Wishing, hoping, wondering… It was the year of wonder and things unsaid. At least, it was for me. Perhaps, that was what I ought to have wished for. To put thoughts finally into words.

The others, too, had had it rough. Not fantastic, either, but some worse than others. Our 'party' had consisted of three but that hadn't been the case for all. Roxy's father, apparently, had organized a huge New Year's Party at their 'bar'. It wasn't technically a bar, it also served non-alcoholic drinks and allowed in people above the age of fifteen- but no drinks for them!

Roxy, however, hadn't enjoyed it all that much, seeing as she still had to work as bartender. Also, to her, it was just another year of her mother being missing in action, what was there to celebrate for? Her father, Klaus refused to speak about her and owned no pictures. Roxy had learned long ago to just stop asking. She was never going to get the answers she needed. Tecna's family had gone out as well but apparently, it hadn't been all that eventful. As Musa put it, her parents were both nerdy- her words, not mine- scientists. Enough said.

"Worse. New. Years. Ever," Musa stated, lying down on the grass."But then, what could I expect? Stuck at home with my dad for hours, listening to him lecture about all the things I have to improve this year. It was awful." Since Tecna had disappeared, Musa had taken the duty upon herself to recount the story before moving on to her own tale.

Roxy sighed, flopping down beside her, pink hair fanned out like a halo. I sat next to the tree, which we had recently decided was 'ours' and closed my eyes. Exhaustion had overtaken our once lively group. _I need to start sleeping earlier. _

"I've never seen you all this tired. Flora, are you asleep or recharging?" Tecna's voice floated towards me but my eyes stayed shut.

"Just another minute. The sun feels so good," I murmured dreamily. Seconds later, Musa was rudely shaking me awake. Sighing, I sat up, moaning as though it pained me so. Through my hazy and sleep-deprived vision, I noticed a newcomer. She was tall and willowy, as though she might be a dancer. She was African-American, with long, curly dark brown hair and chocolate skin.

She was quite pretty with a warm smile that, for reasons I could not explain, made me feel strangely at ease. I had never seen her before but from the way the others were grinning and hugging her, she had definitely not just moved here. Perhaps she was simply not in any of my classes?

Feeling awkward, I hung back at my little corner of the tree. Unfortunately-or maybe fortunately, I couldn't tell at the time- they had all already become accustomed to my habits and tactics. Roxy and Musa grabbed my arms, dragging me upwards.

"This is Layla Aisha Conner. A member of our 'Rebel Alliance'," Musa introduced. Tecna frowned.

"Rebel Alliance? Despite their skills, I felt that their technology was inferior compared to that of the Empire. Their continued success was illogical, the only reason being that they were the good guys and thus, logically, had to win in the end. If it had been real, the Rebel Alliance would have been easily crushed beneath the Galactic Empire with little need for Darth Vader to intervene at all. Also, I rather liked the Death Stars, they were quite useful, they only needed a few alterations," she stated thoughtfully, tapping her chin. Musa rolled her eyes and whispered in my ear.

"Despite all the horrible things they've done, I think Tecna's a bit of an Empire Woman," she hissed. I smiled. "Anyways, Layla went off for some European Exchange Program with one of our sister schools last year. She was away for about, let me think, four-five months?" she explained simply.

Four or five months? How could the school have afforded such a thing? Noticing my startled expression, Musa added on.

"Our school's rich, it was founded by some loaded woman years ago and gets tons of 'donations' every year from parents and collects a lot from tuition fees and whatever." That made a bit more sense.

"So, Layla, how was Italy? Did you sample plenty of pizza?" Roxy asked.

"It was actually pretty nice, once the jet-lag wore off. But let me tell you, the novelty of pizza wears off quickly. I liked the school, in Gardenia City. It was pretty small but there were good things about it. It's sports facilities were amazing," she explained. I guessed that Layla was probably an athlete who also danced, judging from a muscular, yet slightly cat-like build. "And of course, I didn't miss you guys one bit."

"Oh Layla, I'm hurt," Musa replied, giving Layla a friendly punch, which was returned with a slightly harder, but hopefully still friendly, punch. I'll admit it truly, I liked Layla. Then, she turned to look at me.

"Who's she?" she asked. I gulped. Layla had never met me before. What if she thought that I was her replacement? What if she thought I was trying to steal her friends? What if she thought I wasn't cool enough or fit enough? What if I was just a temporary friend and would promptly be placed back in my 'waiting room' until another group needed me for a few months. What if I…what if I…what if I…I…I… Why am I always the problem?

"Layla, this is Flora. She moved here in September last year," Tecna said, strategically placing me in front of Layla. Was it possible to make yourself smaller? My eyes focused on my toes, trying desperately not to meet those cerulean eyes.

"Oh. Hi Flora. Nice to meet you." She spoke nicely, happily and I almost collapsed with relief.

_You are pathetic, utterly pathetic. And too shy for your own good. _

I'm sorry, I didn't ask for your opinion.

_All that ridiculous worrying for "Oh. Hi Flora." I can't believe I'm you._

That makes two of us. Now, please go.

_Not that easy, Little-Miss-Prissy._

"I just got back two days ago. Anything new happened while I was away?" she asked, gracefully sitting down, lotus-style. Tecna sat down too, her heavy backpack making a loud thud. I often wondered if Tecna already had a PhD and was only attending high school to look normal. The robot theory had not totally been discarded either.

"Just the usual. The Witch Sisters tormented innocent people, we got homework and it rained a lot. Seattle is a very mundane place, in my opinion," Tecna replied. Layla nodded, although it was clear that it wasn't exactly what she was asking about.

"More specifically, Tecna and Timmy haven't gotten together yet despite being pushed with a Mack Truck; Roxy and moi are still single and Riven is attempting to get Flora to fall for him of which he is unnaturally successful," Musa helpfully put in, guessing the underlying meaning with ease. Layla turned to look at me, one eyebrow raised.

"You fell for _Riven_, that idiotic sexist who needs a hard kick? Tell me, has Hell frozen over yet?" Layla asked, her face a picture of shock. I blushed. Was it that hard to imagine me with Riven? Or was it the other way around? "It's just that…Riven has always really gone for…girls who are," Layla said, attempting to find words that conveyed what she wanted to tell in a less blunt fashion. She needn't have bothered, my face already slightly pale.

"Layla, ix-nay on talking about iven-ray!" Musa snapped, causing her friend to wince slightly and blush. "Flora, stop worrying already. You need to stop constantly panicking when someone makes a tiny little comment." I sighed and assented, twirling a lock of hair around my finger.

_She's right…_

I didn't take the bait. I hadn't told the others about me and Riven's 'get together' – I was reluctant to call it a date, seeing how I couldn't be certain- so how could they know? They hadn't heard him in the car, they hadn't seen a lot of things. They were judging him based on what he did in school, which wasn't enough. You might see a person everyday for years but if you've never really taken the effort to speak and listen and understand him or her, how could you say you knew them?

"Flora, I'm sorry if what I said offended you," Layla added, biting her lip nervously.

"It's alright Layla. Don't worry about it," I replied, trying to make my smile seem easy-going. _You're bottling it all up…_ The insignificant voice had turned mocking quickly. And I was not bottling up how I felt, I was… _bottling up?_ This time, I shoved the third Flora to the darkest corner of my mind.

"So, Layla, how was Nabu? So delighted to see you again?" Roxy asked, turning over onto her stomach. Her head rested on her hands and she grinned wildly. Layla blushed hard.

"He was happy, of course. Very happy. I can't believe he waited so long and didn't even think of any girls. But that's Nabu, so sweet," she sighed, a dreamy, starry-eyed look on her face.

"Excuse me while I throw up loudly in the bushes," Musa grumbled, making fake retching noises. For a feminist person, based on what I could tell, Layla turned into mush when she thought of this 'Nabu' character.

"In case you haven't gathered yet, Flora, Nabu is Layla's boyfriend and probably future husband. She's going to marry him in ten years, six if she can. Apparently, he's perfect," Roxy said, making air quotes around the last word.

"I would kill you with this but I wouldn't want it to be stained with blood," Layla quipped, aiming her bag at Roxy's head. Tecna laughed, suddenly, a high tinkling sound I rarely heard. There was something in the air, something incredible, unbelievable. Everything was screaming it out, even the flowers, their heads turned to face the sun. I brought my legs to my chin, fear mingling with anticipation. Maybe it would be a better year. Just maybe.

* * *

(Riven's POV)

Sitting in the cafeteria, I observed their little clique. Nabu was beside me, munching on sandwich loudly and a little bit revoltingly. "She's pretty," he commented, swallowing the last bite, his brown hair in a long braid.

"Huh?" I replied. Who exactly was he referring to as 'pretty'? There were hundreds of girls in the cafeteria alone, he could have been talking about any of them. For all I knew, I could have misheard and he was talking about a guy. But no, Nabu wouldn't have. He had known me long enough to realize that I was straight as could be, perhaps even straighter, despite popular belief. Why was it, if a girl or guy remains single for a long time, people automatically assume that they're gay or lesbian? Did I scream it out to the world?

"The girl you've been staring at for the past fifteen minutes. The pretty Hispanic one leaning against the tree," he said, pointing towards them and her. I frowned.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Nabu raised his hands in defense, a silent order for me to relax.

"Nothing. Just that she's pretty so I can guess why you're eyes are locked on her." Wait a minute, he thinks I'm staring at her because she's _pretty_? I hadn't exactly informed Nabu about what had transpired since September and he hadn't asked. There were rumors floating about but Nabu had never been one to listen to them. Still, did he really think I was that bad? Great, he was turning into a minature version of my father.

"She happens to have a name called Flora," my tone almost angry, "And that's not the reason I'm staring."

"Is this the mysterious girl that you are supposedly dating? The one you told me barely anything about aside from the fact that she's new and a few other insignificant details? Come on Riven, is everything I've heard true?" he asked, watching me carefully. I glared at him, giving him my coldest stare, to which he remained unaffected. He was one of the few people who was immune to it.

"We're not dating!" It came out louder than expected. Several heads turned. I lowered my voice. "We're just friends. She's nice and interesting and…different." One look from Nabu and I knew he wasn't buying it.

"Are you sure you're not just confusing your feelings? Sure it's not because you think she's beautiful?" he insisted. _I need to pick less annoying and persistent friends. Of course, only annoying and persistent friends are the ones capable of tolerating me. _"Because, well, I've never really seen you date someone for those reasons."

"Well, did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm sick of airheads? Or that I might not view people just appearance? Am I really that much of a jerk?" Nabu massaged his temples, formulating his next reply. It was a small wonder he had stayed my best friend for this long. Maybe I ought to give him a prize for that. Or a vacation, he might like that more.

"So, you'd still like her if she was…missing an arm or leg?"

"Yes."

"Had a strange skin disorder."

"Yeah."

"Missing teeth?"

"Uh…"

"Only one eye?"

"Drop it, Nabu." When you got him started, it was almost impossible to get him to keep quiet. The few things that distracted him were Layla, dancing, dancing with Layla, music and sports. Still, he was my continuous and reliable source of information and advice, not all asked for or willingly taken.

"Kidding. Still, Riven, you'd better make sure. There are a lot of broken hearted girls out there and from the looks of her, there wouldn't be anything left of her if you did." I stole one last look at the quiet, shy girl, sitting peacefully under the tree. She was so delicate, so easily broken. _Better make sure…make sure…sure…sure…_I nearly threw my plate at Nabu, partly out of frustration and the rest out of keeping him silent for good.

The thought nagged at me, preyed on my mind every minute as the day wore on. I couldn't focus in class. I stared at the same spot in my notebook, barely even able to comprehend what was happening around me. I was being an idiot. Right? I mean, there were other reasons I liked her, weren't there? When she walked down the hall, about to bump straight into me, I turned as fast as I could and almost ran the other way.

What was with me? I never listened to Nabu's advice, why was I doing so now? It was stupid advice anyway. But my mind wouldn't drop it. I tried begging and pleading. I asked nicely. I asked not-so-nicely. But the thought wouldn't loosen it's grip, digging in ever harder. Hard enough, that I was fairly certain that I was going crazy.

_She was awfully pretty, truth be told. Anyone could see that…_

No, no, I wasn't thinking that. But still… _I mean, look at her hair and eyes. And her skin, it's so smooth and flawless. Girls would kill for skin like that. Maybe that's why the others are so jealous. She has what they don't have. _I nearly tore my hair out. Why was I thinking this? Had Nabu's thoughts influenced me that much?

Math class was pure torture. I kept stealing glances at the frail Mexican girl with the saddest eyes I had ever seen. Once of her twice, she caught me, giving me a strange look. _Pretty little girl. That's probably the only reason why I like her. Who couldn't like someone as pretty as that? Beauty is one of the most important things in a relationship; who would date an ugly girl?_ I gave a low growl, internally cursing myself to hell.

How could I be thinking this? I was out of class only seconds after the bell, with Flora hot on my heels.

"Riven? Riven, wait!" she called, catching up to me by the main doors. "What's wrong?" I grunted, turning to move away. _All I want is her beauty. Nothing more. Like what Nabu said. Just like what he said. _I needed to get out of here. Why were my thoughts contradicting themselves? Was I developing a multiple personality disorder?

"Riven, you seem tense? Has something happened?" she pressed further, her hand on my shoulder. The concern in her voice was strong but I ignored it.

"I need to go," I muttered, jerking her away and running out. I didn't look back, didn't want to see those sad green eyes fill with tears, to see the books fall to the ground as she watched me run away from her.

* * *

(Flora's POV)

I wrapped my arms around me as tight as possible, as though they would protect me from all the demons of the world. The rain kept pouring, harder and harder still but I didn't care. Why did he run? Why was he so angry? Why? All my problems began with Riven. It seems like they will end that way too. Always Riven who starts it. The rain in my mouth tasted salty. Everything had been go so perfectly and now…

Now I no longer knew up from down. The world had become topsy-turvy. I felt like I was clinging onto a breaking branch in a storm. Sooner or later, my hand would slip or the branch would split in two. The winds battered me from all directions. I was losing my grip, one finger loosening. It wouldn't be long before I fell.

"Flora? Get in, you're going to get sick." My purple haired savior had arrived in her car. Without a second thought, I jumped in, huddling in the warm plush seats of the ancient vehicle. "What were you thinking? Walking in the pouring rain?" Tecna demanded, car squealing from the pavement. I didn't bother giving her directions to my fake house. She probably already knew where my real one was. Tecna knows everything.

"Riven…ran away…from me," my voice came out in shaky and choked, like I was struggling to breathe. "He was angry at something…and he wouldn't tell me. I feel like I've done…something wrong." I was crying freely now.

"Flora," Tecna whispered, "You need to stop blaming yourself. Riven is complicated. So are you. Your relationship is complex and difficult. There will always be trouble." She turned a corner, heading towards my true district.

"But what you really need is a break. Roxy can't make it all but Musa and Layla have agreed that at the end of this month of January, the four of us are going to have a night out. No boys to make a mess. It was Musa's idea and I think it sounds good. What do you say?" she asked, one hand moving to push a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Well…" I considered the possibility. It might be in three weeks time but I really did want to just relax for once. "Okay. Let's do it." Tecna smiled.

"You won't live to regret it." If only she knew how wrong that statement was. That even know and till the end of time, I will regret that day, regret the choices we'd made.

* * *

**A.N. Poor Riven, the power of suggestion really got hold of him. I'm sure we've all felt this before at some point in our lives. Next chapter will be the very important, the turning point that gave this story its name. I hope to update my newest story next followed by the Icy-centered fic. Please review:)**


	11. End of the Night of the Beginning

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Winx Club. I own this story.

_Note: I finished this early and decided to post it. It's a little bit shorter than the other chapters but I assure you, the incident that will shape the rest of the story happens here. Flora and Riven's relationship is already on unsteady ground and this will cause more trouble and heartbreak in later chapters. Also, do you remember the locket Riven gave Flora in Chapter Eight? It will have some importance within this chapter and the next so keep it in mind. So remember, this is the turning point of the story so pay attention, especially to the last bit. With that in mind, enjoy!

* * *

_

"You dropped this." I wondered if he had simply stolen it from my folder or backpack or locker so he would get a chance to talk to me. Three long weeks of avoiding him, of walking the other way, of making up excuses just to get away. I had barely spoken more than two words to him and know he expected me to start an entire conversation? Unthinkable. My math paper, with a B- scrawled on it, looks strange in his pale hands.

Should I rip it from his grasp? Or take it and say thank you? Perhaps I should simply crawl inside my open locker and shut myself away for the next twenty years of my life. It dangles there, like a challenge. He had tossed the challenge into my castle, my fortress and it smoldered there, waiting.

I didn't want to see him. Not now. I stared at that white scrap. I regained motion, my arm reaching out to take it. Brown against white contrasts sharply. Another occurrence to prove how different we are. Unsuited, unmatching, definitely not a fated pair.

"Thank you." The words were false on my lips; I did not want to thank him for anything. They were all the same. Men were like babies; they were always looking for new toys and forgetting the old. When they got what they wanted, they broke their ancient playthings.

School was over for the day and at last, after the wait, we were ready to go and have a girls-only night out. His blue eyes were burning holes in the side of my head but I forced myself to turn and continue to place books back and take new ones out for homework. There was nothing more to be said. If only I were Musa, then maybe I might have had the strength to fling one of my large and heavy tomes at his arrogant face.

Instead, all I continued to ignore him, playing the part of a cool, indifferent teenage girl. The reality? My heart echoed in my ears as I nervously bit my lip, almost causing it to bleed. Part of me wanted to throw myself into his arms; the other wanted to walk away and never look back. Riven cleared his throat.

"Flora, about…" he began.

"Oh, Flora, _there _you are! We've been looking _everywhere_ for you," Tecna interrupted, coming up behind Riven. Her voice was strangely high and cheerful as she wrapped her arm around my shoulder. A rather plastic grin was cemented on her pale face. Musa and Layla materialized at her side.

"Flora? Is he bothering you? If you want, we can make sure it never happens again," Layla stated, not even attempting to mask the threat in her words. Casually, she brought her hands together and cracked the knuckles. Relief washed over my body in waves.

"No, it's alright. He was leaving," I whispered, pushing my bangs out of my eyes. "He was leaving," I repeated, to be certain that I had actually spoken the words. Riven sneered at the others. Musa glared at him, her black boots moving closer to his sneakers.

"If you mess with Flora, you mess with us," she hissed in his ear. There was no sign of remaining love for the man who had once been her boyfriend. With a final dark look, I was shepherded away from the only boy who had, at least, been kind to me while it had lasted.

The others didn't press me with questions. Didn't ask for more than what had been given. They were good friends to me; they knew when they ought to leap and when to take a step back. I turned my head, just slightly and looked behind me, at what I was leaving behind. He stared stonily at our retreating figures, before clenching his fist and going the other way. Maybe I had been right to choose not to continue on.

_Are you sure you're right? _

I'm sure. I'm certain I am.

_No, you're not. There's still a part of you that wants to put your hand into his and walk into the sunset. You want to know 'why', always 'why'._

He doesn't answer to why. Most people don't. Maybe there's no why.

_There's always a 'why'. I can see all your absurd little fantasies, where he sweeps you off your feet. Here's the thing, this isn't some fairytale._

He might…

_He's no chivalrous prince. You're no bimbo princess. Grow up Flora. Live in the real world._

"Ooh, the happy couple had breakup, it seems. How dreadful." The redhead girl laughed and tossed her hair. How strange that those with angel faces are the most dangerous while those you avoid are ones to be trusted. Her thin body as well as those of her friends blocked the doors. We could have knocked them over easily but some force held us back, unable to move.

Others in the hallway paused, watching, waiting for what would happen next. It was entertainment to them, just a show for them to watch. None would help. I had learnt that in the cafeteria months ago.

_Helia helped you._

I was just a toy to him, he's moved on to another, more willing girl.

_Sad…_

I wondered why they never tried to stop them. Looking back, I know. Bloom and Stella, Icy, Darcy and Stormy, they might not have really done all that much. True, they might be cheerleaders or prom queens but no one with real, influential power. Not people you cheer on as they race down the track or score the winning goal. But unconsciously, others follow them. They don't think about it, but they do. The popular kids bullied others and so did they. The popular kids didn't care much about others and so did they. The popular kids hated my guts and so did they. An amazing soft power. At the center of the school, they stood and controlled.

"Wait Bloom, let me get a bucket; I think your head's on fire. Oh wait, it's just that awful haircut of yours, my bad," Musa chuckled, giving a perfect Riven-esque smirk. She folded her arms defiantly, the tilt of her chin just enough to show she would not back down.

"Only you would think up something like that Musa. But then again, stupidity was always your forte," Stella chided, examining her pale pink, perfectly manicured nails. Musa rolled her eyes, utterly indifferent to the blonde girl's jibes. Layla however, locked her eyes on her.

"Oh Stella, is that how you welcome back old friends? I should have know you'd be here, that awful smell was enough to clue me in," Layla replied, her voice sugary sweet and playful, as though they were both great buddies.

"Layla, I'm so glad you love my perfume. I like your new clothes…they make you look so perky."

"And I'm sick of all of you acting like small children! Come Flora, we're leaving," Tecna snapped, grabbing my arm as she pushed her way to the door.

"Coward," Bloom muttered, loud enough to be heard within a five-mile radius. Tecna turned and stared at her. There was pain and anger within that gaze.

"At least I opened my eyes before it was too late. What did you have? Power? It's power over nothing, as far as I'm concerned Bloom," Tecna said as the four of us pushed open the doors and walked out into the sun.

* * *

"Remember, I'm picking you all up at six, alright?" Layla repeated, one last time as I got out of the car. I nodded and smiled as I closed the door. Layla had insisted on driving, mainly because she was the best driver and more importantly, Tecna's parents needed the car that night.

Climbing up the stairs, I reflected that this was the first time we had all hung out outside of school. Perhaps our friendship was finally really taking shape. Now, I began to think about what exactly I ought to be prepared for.

_Don't you dare start your panicking, Miss Insecure._

That's not my name.

_Whatever, Miss Insecure.

* * *

_

"Mama, I'm going now!" I called as I grabbed my purse. Specially for the event, I had taken of my sweater and instead wore a pale pink shirt, black flare skirt and pink flats. Looking in the mirror, I startled myself. Could that be me, that pretty girl? Or was it like that song, where my reflection wasn't me?

"Be careful and have fun! _Te amo_!" she replied as I pushed the door open. Layla's large spacious ride was idling by the pavement; it's occupants watching the gangster people out of the corners of their eyes. This time, I slid into the front seat, with Tecna and Musa at the back, left and right respectively. Layla smiled at me, her curly haired pulled back into a high ponytail and clad in a short green dress and jeans.

"So, Flora, have you been to any of Seattle's attractions?" Layla asked as we drove off. I shook my head. I hadn't the time or energy to go. Also, without company it felt odd, a lone teenager glancing down to eye the Stone Troll beneath the Aurora Bridge. I didn't what was just a scam and what was worth seeing. Besides, I had always assumed we would just move again, there was no point getting attached to a place.

"It's kind of late to go to Aurora Bridge but we could always go to Pike Place Market. And then the mall. Have you seen the mall, the one I'm talking about? It's huge with about ten stories," Layla chattered on.

"Enough Lay, you're giving me a headache," Musa complained. Layla giggled as we continued. The topic of boys did not come up in our discussion and that was fine with me.

* * *

Pike Place Market was huge. I didn't have any money to buy things so we roamed, gasping at everything new and exciting or amazing looking. The market had been built on hill, with different levels offering items to be bought. There were antique stores filled with ancient clocks and manuscripts; comic book stores filled with glossy magazines, as though they had never been touched nor read.

There were small, family owned restaurants with heavenly smells wafting out. Stomachs growling, we bought sandwiches and greedily devoured them as we walked. We reached an area with fishmongers too, but the smell of fish nearly made me throw up. There were shops selling fruits and vegetables. By mutual request, Layla lightened her purse and got us several bags of strawberries and cinnamon covered nuts.

But what delighted me most was the shop selling flowers. Deep red roses, sunflowers reaching towards the light and delicate ivies all drew my eye. The heavenly perfume of all the blossoms made me both dizzy and energetic. For once, the dreary and gray city had come to life. The air throbbed with energy and I felt almost like dancing.

"Still think Seattle is boring?" Musa asked, poking me in the ribs. She wore a red gypsy top and denim miniskirt along with her trademark black combat boots.

"This is amazing," I answered truthfully and it was.

It was already eight by then, two hours had disappeared like magic. By the car, Tecna, in an all purple- including purple pants, jacket and heels, gave her suggestion.

"We could go to the mall and watch a movie and then maybe wander the mall. There's enough time and I think all our curfews extend long enough. Why not?" she asked, leaning against the cool black metal of the vehicle. Exchanging glances, we agreed.

* * *

"I can't believe it!" Layla had not been exaggerating when she said the mall was huge. It was _enormous_, with probably a trillion shops. There was also an arcade, bowling alley, ice-skating rink and cinema. Music blared from all directions, each shop attempting to entice you to enter and spend. You could get lost within for decades and never even know it.

"You have not shopped till you shop here," Layla declared, "Or so they tell me anyway."

"You wouldn't know Layla, seeing as you're always dancing or working out," Musa chimed in. There were huge groups of teenagers everywhere, hanging out at the food court, in the arcade, shops, just loitering about really. I could spot all sorts of different gangs: Skater kids, computer geeks (Musa's words), spoilt rich girls (Musa again), etc.

At last, after going up about five escalators, we reached the cinema. Another problem arose soon after.

"Comedies. Definitely comedies. You can't go wrong with comedies," Musa insisted.

"Why not an adventure movie? It's more thrilling," Layla countered.

"What about a romance movie?" I suggested.

"I would prefer a science fiction movie. Logically, there is no way we can find a movie that would suit all our preferences. Thus, we must make a compromise. There are two romantic adventure movies, one comedy-adventure-romance, one science fiction adventure, one comedy-romance and one science fiction romance. Take your pick," Tecna stated, "We should also make a decision quickly or we might have to watch an eleven o'clock movie."

Layla and Musa opened their mouths to speak but I interrupted. "Why not we watch the comedy-adventure-romance? It also has elements of science fiction so it would be perfect. It starts soon and it received good reviews," I said, twirling a lock of my hair. It was the first time I had ever actually given a suggestion.

"Fine," Musa and Layla grumbled, with Tecna's thumbs up. Happily, I bought the tickets. Minutes later, we settled into our seats, clutching bags of popcorn, chips and soda. I curled up tight with Layla's jacket as I suspended disbelief and allowed myself to forget the troubles of reality and escape into fantasy.

* * *

"Flora, that was a perfect choice. I _loved _it," Musa said, tossing her can into the trash. "But the romance was a little sappy."

"Hollywood always makes romance seem that way. But the adventure, that was worth seeing," Layla added. Tecna frowned.

"I found the ending slightly unrealistic. In theory, such a thing could not…" she began but Musa groaned.

"Tecna, it's a movie! And it's not Star Wars or Stargate something or Star Trek movie number whatever!" Tecna blushed, just a little. Myself, I was glad that we had managed to find something that pleased us all. I was a bit sad that Roxy wasn't able to make it for I knew she would have enjoyed this just as much. Still, we had agreed on something and that was worth mentioning.

"And now, I bet Tecna wants to go and shoot a few aliens or something," Musa added, eyeing her friend. The purple haired girl grinned as she entered the loud and packed arcade. Weaving her way through, as though she had done so a million times, Tecna arrived at machine entitled, _Alien Attack_.

With precision, she grabbed the controls, easily blasting every alien and space ship that appeared. "I know I can beat my last record," she muttered, fingers pressing the triggers repeatedly. We sat down, Musa pulling out an iPod, occasionally passing us one of the earpieces to allow us to listen.

Finally, after about half an hour, Musa literally wrenched Tecna off the machine and out of the building. "Enough! You can save the world another day!" she snapped, shoving her into the car.

On hindsight, I often wonder, what would have happened if Musa had let Tecna play a little longer, just one more game? Or if we had picked a movie that ended just a bit later? Or if I had gone to the bathroom and held us back ten minutes? What would have happened then? Perhaps the outcome would still have been the same or maybe another person would have gotten hurt instead.

We drove on, through the streets to drop Musa off first. We were talking away, Layla's eyes occasionally moving away from the road. That was the first mistake. I was barely paying attention to the conversation, too tired to do anything but stare at the cars around us. We paused at the light, waiting for green to come.

"So then, I went to this Italian restaurant. I didn't even realize it was…" Layla jabbered on, Musa and Tecna also adding in there comments. Red changed to green and Layla drove. The four-road junction was rather empty; it was a quiet district with few cars.

"And then, can you believe…"

"Layla, look out!" I shrieked suddenly. A truck, going in the opposite direction, swerving wildly, was heading straight for us. In those brief moments, I realized what was happening. Life didn't flash before my eyes. I didn't send prayers to a Lord I had never believed in. Everything seemed wrong. How could this be, after what could have been one of the best moments of my life?

Time came back; I felt the truck smash into us, my face turned away as I felt something hard and sharp pierce my face. Almost in slow motion, an object, I couldn't tell what, slammed into my chest just before the airbag inflated. My head smacked into the dashboard as I heard Musa and Layla scream. What had become of them?

And then I was lying there, my head already spinning. A metallic taste filled my mouth. Iron. Shakily, almost hesitantly, my fingers brushed my left cheek. Through the haze that was engulfing me, my fingers glowed red.

I felt tired, oh so tired. Someone was screaming, a name, could it have been mine? But my ears wouldn't hear and my limbs felt so numb. _Don't sleep! _Someone called. _Stay with us! _The ringing in my ears was deafening. I couldn't stay awake any longer, the redness clouding my vision.

So I gave in, allowing black to replace red as the darkness took me away.

**A.N. Oooh, cliffhanger! Is Flora alright? What about the others? The driver of the truck? It will all be revealed, sooner or later. **

**Te amo - Love you **

**The girls preferences for movies was taken from the Winx Club website. Pike Place Market and Aurora Bridge are real attractions within Seattle. My information on them was found on different websites so I apologize to anyone from Seattle if the information is inaccurate or insubstantial. I might update my other stories this weekend. Hopefully, the next chapter of this story will be up next week. Until then, try and figure out what will happen next! And review!**


	12. Second Act

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Winx Club.

_Note: I FINISHED EARLY! Which is fantastic considering how busy I'm becoming. Eat, Sleep, Do Homework:( Anyhow, last chapter ended on cliffhanger which got your attention. So, now you'll finally know what happened to Flora. The others though (insert evil, crazed laugh) might not be revealed just yet. Anyway, read and enjoy! _

* * *

I do not know if I truly slept or if my body shut down, slipping away into unconsciousness. I do not know how close I was to death. The doctors would never tell me, my mother would never tell me, no one would ever speak a word of how near I was to being a human vegetable. All they had ever said was that I should count my stars that I was still alive and breathing.

Some days I wonder if I really ought to feel blessed that I keep on living.

Such a strange statement to someone who often wonders if she was only lucky to have been born, when her mother often speaks that being with her father had been mistake. Did that make me a mistake as well? I don't think I need luck. I'm better off without luck or fate or destiny or whatever else you wish to call it. Sometimes I wonder, what would have happened if I had never opened my eyes, never woken up. Maybe it's better that I don't wonder, to stay away from the wondering that eats you alive.

All I know is that when I let it go, I slept and did not dream. And that was all.

* * *

"_Ra!" _it penetrated my mind. Something stirred within, telling me to wake. But why? I couldn't. I wouldn't. _"Ora!" _Louder now. My muscles still felt so tired, so limp. Why should I stir for that strange sound that held no connection to me? "_Flora!" _The voice was urgent, screaming and begging for me to join them again. It sounded so familiar but why?

Because it was a name, a name, a name…it was my name. My name. Flora.

The light burned my eyes as I struggled to see. The room was white, all white. Was this heaven? I shifted slightly and instantly felt a throb in my side. No, I decided, there was too much pain for this to be the afterlife. My senses filled with the reek of chemicals, dying flowers and disinfectant.

I turned my head, ever so slightly to the side. The fuzzy, grainy images cleared and focused. Mama. Mamas, slumped in an uncomfortable hospital chair, sound asleep. Her hair was in a complete mess and she looked like she had not moved from that spot in days. A thought occurred to me. How many days had it been? Miele was curled up next to her, also in Dream Land.

"Mama?" I whispered softly, "Miele?" The woman who raised me stirred, rubbing away the bleariness of the early morning. Blinking, Mama stared at me as though seeing me for the first time. Then she gasped.

"Flora! Oh, _mi __pequeña flor_! I was so worried! It's been days and I thought…never mind. I am never, never letting you go! _Nunca_! I don't know whether to hug or hit you, _mi __niña __hermosa __estúpida_!" Showering my face with kisses, she held me tight, her warm arms protection against the world. My side still pulsed in pain but Mama's love made it feel like a distant memory.

She stroked my hair as though I were still nine years old, scared after another of her and Papa's fights. No matter what, she had always made things better, somehow.

"How many days has it been?" I whispered. Mama sighed, pulling back and settling into her seat.

"Two days, Flora. It's been two days," she said softly, clutching her purse tight in her hands. _Two days…_I opened my mouth then closed it once more. I didn't know what to say. _Or maybe you don't want to say it. _Again, that tiny voice, nipping at me with what I hoped wasn't the truth.

We did not speak as I held my head in hands, trying to comprehend all that had happened. The silence didn't last long. Rubbing her eyes, my little sister slipped out of her chair to stare at us, mouth hanging open.

"Flora! I thought, I thought…" Miele cried, jumping onto my stomach. I hissed, jerking backwards at the sting. Instantly, Miele's face crumpled.

"_No se preocupe_. I'm fine, it's all right" I insisted, running my fingers through her soft hair. Mama frowned at me, shaking her head slowly. Carefully, I lifted the covers, staring at the short, white hospital dress I was wearing. My fingers traced over my torso, feeling the lines of bandages.

Gently, they lifted, running over my face. One side was cool and smooth. Heavy bandages covered the other. Why would I have all these wounds… Two cars smashing into one another. Glass shattering. People screaming. And on my hands… They no longer glow red in the light but I know. I remember.

"The accident!" I gasped, this time actually shooting into a sitting position, "The others! Mama, the others, what happened to them?"

"Flora, you need to rest!" she cried, gripping my shoulders, "You're straining yourself and…"

"Miss, if your daughter is awake, the doctor would like to see her now." The nurse, worry lines marring her still youthful face. Hesitantly, Mama released, allowing my body to slump back onto the bed. The doctor entered afterwards, tall and pale. He seemed kind. I never knew his name.

He moved his finger back and worth in front of my eyes, making sure I followed it. Taking out a penlight, he shone it in my face, watching as I blinked and looked away. Finally, he held up three fingers.

"How many?" he asked. I resisted the urge to become Musa and say, "Twelve."

"What happened?" I finally asked, "What happened to me?" He cleared his throat, pushing his glasses that had slipped down with his sweat.

"I don't want to sugarcoat things, Miss Montoya," he began.

"Then don't," Mama said in a strong, round voice. I could never tell why but Mama had a way to make people do things. To listen. To obey. To learn from their mistakes. She never shouted, never yelled. But there was something in her quiet, firm voice that made you open up to her.

The doctor coughed uncomfortably, raking his fingers through his auburn hair. "You see, Miss, you sustained a rather hard blow to your abdomen, around your ribcage and heart area. You have several broken ribs which have been set as well as a slight concussion. Also, there is the matter of your face," he explained as I massaged my aching body.

"Presumably, during impact, the glass of the rear view mirror shattered and several shards were embedded into your face. Though we were able to remove most of it, it has left a permanent…" What he said would always haunt me, every single moment I stared at my reflection. It had sent everything in motion; it was the straw that broke what little strength I had left.

"Permanent scarring about the left side of your face. I assume that your face was turned away during that moment. You could go for plastic surgery to correct it," he trailed off. Mama's face was already the answer. Unacceptable. We could not afford such a luxury; I guessed that the hospital bill was already taking out a large chunk of Mama's budget. He turned to leave, but paused, reaching into the deep pockets of his coat.

"You know, Miss Montoya, you make think that you are unfortunate but I assure you are lucky. A very lucky girl. The impact you took could have killed you but you were wearing this." It dangled from his finger, rubies glinting in the light. The chain shone bright and true.

"It took most of the blow for you. You were that close, Miss Montoya, _that _close to taking the Big Dirt Nap," he said, "Put it all into perspective. You've got a lot more luck than you realize." The necklace dropped into my cupped palms as he and the nurse walked away.

The golden orb was cracked and broken, one of the red stone chipped. Its original beauty could barely be seen through the smashed and beaten metal. Was he right when he said that it had saved my life? I had put it on without thinking; it was a memento, a memory of a life gone by.

I pressed it against my cheek, feeling the lines it dug within my skin. But it didn't matter. Another mark wouldn't make a difference. At first, all I could feel was numbness, a feeling of great emptiness and sorrow. Now the dam broke and everything, every feeling, thought, emotion I had ever boxed away burst free and poured out.

I sobbed, clutching the locket ever tighter. Mama did not hug me. She knew when I needed others and when I just wanted my own solitude. I needed it now as she and Miele went outside to let me be. The walls had fallen. They had crumbled so many years ago; I was clutching onto weeds as I fell off a cliff.

Everything had spilt out. There was nothing left. Why was I still living? Was it fate, destiny or just chance? I didn't much believe in providence. Had this happened for a reason? I did not know. Maybe I never would.

The metal burnt against my skin, a reminder of everything. I fingered the indents, cracks and fissures. The locket was a reflection of what I would be. Broken, destroyed and alone. Always alone.

* * *

I wanted to know what happened. I needed to know the name of the person who had smashed into us; I wanted to know what had happened to the others. Asking the nurse was pointless, she didn't know at all. This called for a better source, an eyewitness, bystander or better yet, a cop.

"We could call the police for details," Mama pondered, pacing back and forth. The doctors had insisted-much to Mama's chagrin- that I would have to spend at least a few more days at the hospital. It would be a week before the stitches in my cheek would be removed and quite a while before I would run without feeling a throb in my side. Even now, after all this time, my side still ached horribly when I awoke.

"But what would we ask Mama? Then won't tell us anything," I replied, pulling my legs closer to my body. It had been three hours of lying around, feeling sorry for myself. I even began to feel sorry for the wilting flowers, giving them some of my water when the nurse delivered lunch. There was nothing to do but think and that just made things worse.

My mind imagined the worse, comatose, lifeless, dead. I had to see them. I wanted to move. The bed was becoming a prison; I was a bird that had been caged for too long now, I needed to be set free.

"Ms. Montoya, Police Investigator Drew Terrier is here to speak with you and your daughter," the nurse stated, leaning around the doorway, "He should be here in about a minute." Mama snorted.

"Well, it's about (_insert a very long list of Spanish swear words_) time," she muttered. Turning to Miele, she gave her firmest stare. "No bothering the police. Sit here and don't ask to see his gun." Mama looked at me. I nodded, silently agreeing that I would not do anything to irritate the man. Truthfully, I was more worried about his reaction to Mama's incredibly comprehensive vocabulary of expressive adjectives and nouns.

Sixty seconds later, the cop arrived. He was of an average build, graying around the temples and his head was already beginning to shine under the lights. His eyes were serious and solemn and his every action spoke of a man that was focused and efficient.

He nodded at the nurse, clearing his throat before beginning. "Ma'am, I am Police Investigator Drew Terrier and I've been piecing together eye-witness accounts so as to get the true story-or as close as possible- to what happened to your daughter and her friends," he started.

"Continue," Mama said, folding her arms to give him a hard glare. She had never particularly liked cops, finding them to be biased and untrustworthy.

"The accident had two players: Your daughter and friends car and the driver of the truck. From what we gather, he was swerving violently and recklessly, going through several red lights. At the junction, with the car your daughter was in driving out, he veered sharply, his car ramming into the left side of the car, most of the impact at the front and driver's side of the vehicle."

"What was he on?" she asked, watching him carefully.

"The driver did not survive the impact-he was not wearing a seat belt. Autopsy shows that he was quite a drinker and we strongly suspect that he was drunk at the time of collision," he explained.

I felt a small kernel of pity for the driver; he might have almost killed us but it was not as though he had deserved to die. Mama continued to scowl, giving a tiny bob of her head to indicate that she understood and he ought leave.

"Wait," I croaked out, my throat raspy from crying, "What about the others in the car? Tecna Samuels, Musa Huang, Layla-Aisha Conner? Are they alright?"

"Miss Samuels and Huang are both awake as well and not as badly injured. I have not been able to speak to Miss Conner yet as she is intensive care," he said.

"Intensive care? But why?" I gasped. _Most of the impact at the driver's side of the car…_Layla. How badly had she been hurt? Was she even alive at this moment?

"I'm not exactly certain. All I understand is that her injuries were the most serious of all you, before yours. Miss Samuels was next with Miss Huang being the best of you all. Now, if you'll excuse me," he uttered, turning briskly on his heel and walking out.

"What a load of bull," my mother grumbled, "Strongly suspect? Anyone with a kernel of intelligence knows that man was drunk. And probably high as well, those fools." Miele whimpered, clutching my arm. I was still reeling from what I had heard. Panic swelled in me. Just because Tecna and Musa were better off than me didn't mean that they were alright.

A broken arm, skull injury, my fingers twisted the sheets into notes in my worry. No soothing words would help. I wanted to get out of this bed! But I couldn't. All I could do was close my eyes and try and drown myself in self-pity and regret.

* * *

My favorite pink haired friend came to visit the next day. The large bags under her eyes showed that she was not getting enough sleep. She must have been up for hours at a time, worrying, visiting, and crying. I wondered how it was possible she was here, it was Tuesday, ten in the morning, a school day.

"My dad let me skip and come visit you," Roxy explained, hugging me as tightly as she could without hurting me. I felt a surge of happiness that Roxy had ditched school just so she could see me. Foolish, I had been, to think that my friends didn't care one bit about me. "I should have been there."

"You would just have gotten hurt as well," I whispered, squeezing her hand. I couldn't have lived with that, knowing that another had been involved.

"Does the whole school know already?" I asked, imagining the many reactions; the witches, Bloom and Stella, Riven… My heart squeezed at that thought. Things were already so complicated, too much for me to handle at the moment.

"Musa called me. That girl is amazing; all she has are a couple of scratches and concussion. She is unreal," Roxy replied, dragging a chair closer to sit next to me. The pink was fading fast from her hair, allowing the original blond to show. I faintly wondered what color she might dye it next.

"Why isn't she here then?" I hadn't meant to sound hurt but it escaped anyway as a shadow crossed Roxy's face.

"Musa's…father came. Flora, I never saw any man look so hurt and angry at the same time. He pushed past the doctor, demanding to see her and then all I heard was all this yelling and sobbing. He took her out of here as fast as he could. I haven't heard anything since." Roxy might not have guessed but I knew. I remembered something I had said a long time ago, last year in fact.

_He's afraid music will make you go down the same path as your mother. _And know he had the proof he needed. But music was Musa's world, the last thread that bound her to her mother. How could he take it away from her, the one thing she loved the most in the universe?

"What about Tecna?" I asked, mildly relieved that at least Musa was alright. Still, I worried, Tecna, the first friend here, the one who stood by me for everything.

"Broken arm, concussion. She woke up on Sunday. I talked to her, she seems alright but she's _devastated _that she'll be missing school." We both laughed and I took it as a sign that Tecna was definitely alive and kicking. Worrying about schoolwork when one has a broken arm? Pure Tecna.

"And…Layla?" I whispered softly, barely capable of speaking the words. Part of me never wanted to hear what Roxy had to say. I wanted to plug my ears and hum, to make it all go away. But something forced me to listen closely as Roxy pulled at her hair, grief in her voice.

"Her side, her area…she was so badly hit and…" A tear trickled down her face. Angrily, she brushed it aside, jumping to her feet.

"Roxy? Please, tell me. I have to know," I pleaded, watching my friend's fist clench and relax repeatedly.

"She was in the emergency room. She almost died, Flora. She almost freaking died!" Her voice was rising. "Her spine- the nerve- was injured and they're not sure what that could mean."

"What do they suspect?" I gulped, tears threatening to rain down and never stop. Roxy stopped, turning to look at me, face blotchy and wet. She seemed almost confused, staring at me.

"She might be paralyzed from the waist down. She might never walk again, Flora," Roxy whispered. No, it couldn't be. Not Layla, not the energetic, fearless girl who loved to just _move_, to be free. This could not be happening to her. My pity for the deceased dried up. He had hurt us so badly, destroying Layla's life as she knew it. He hadn't even known us.

And know I knew. How wrong I had been, to think my friends were false, to think I hadn't needed them. I needed them more than anything. I couldn't live without them. The levee broke and then Roxy and I were crying, holding onto each other for support that would not come.

These were not simple tears. They were complicated. I cried for Layla, and the life she would not have, I cried for Musa and Tecna and I cried for myself. I cried for everything that had changed in those split seconds. All our lives, our futures, what would stay the same and would would no longer be there? The happiness we had was a faded memory that was being lost to the wind.

**A.N. Ah, what's going to happen to Layla? What about Musa and her father? And will Flora's reaction be when the stitches come off? You'll find out in the upcoming chapters. I hope I portrayed Flora's distress well; still trying to hold onto to hope but in the end she bawls. **

**mi pequeña flor- My little flower**

**Nunca- Never**

**mi niña hermosa estúpida - My lovely stupid girl (yeah, it's a little insulting but I guess Flora's Mama is a little bit angry at her- she probably regrets letting her go out alone with her friends)**

**No se preocupe - Don't worry **

**Read and review, I will try and get the next chapter up soon! **


	13. Crossroads

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Winx Club, no matter how much begging, pleading, groveling, blackmailing, holding family relations hostage and bribery I have tried.

_Note: Finished, thanks to the Chinese New Year Break that I get. Last Chapter was rather sad, especially hearing of what happened to Layla. Well, in this chapter, you'll finally get to find out what's happened to her. Will she end up paralyzed for life? Wait and see in the upcoming chapters. This chapter should have more Riven action in it. He has yet to make an actual appearance but rest assured, in this chapter, in his presence will be felt. So, please enjoy this chapter!

* * *

_

I could no longer stop touching my face, feeling the bandages. It was an unconscious movement, just a small brush with the tips of my fingers. But every stroke only told the same story that I already knew. No miracle would ever erase what had happened. Waking up in the morning, I hoped that all I would feel was smooth skin, untouched, just as how it had always been. But I never did. Two days. Two days until they would remove the bandages and I found finally see what lay beneath. How bad was it?

Fear was all that I could feel. What would I look like then? A monster? I suppose one never really begins to truly consider how much we love how we look until it is forever snatched away. It grew worse each day as I began to wonder if what the reactions would be. Would they be terrified, repulsed and horrified by me? Would they see on difference at all? Or would they declare that I had gone and gotten half a dozen strange tattoos on my face? And then there was the thought of him…

I hadn't been to school for three days. Three whole days, more than 72 hours spent either unconscious or in a hospital bed. By now, either everyone knew what had happened or all sorts of crazy rumors were floating about, trying to explain my – and Layla's- disappearance. Did he even try and consider where I might be? Or had I simply faded away, just another girl he never really knew.

* * *

Pushing my wheelchair into the lift, Roxy and I headed up to see Layla. It felt strange, being wheeled from one area to another. Roxy didn't really seem to mind though; I strongly suspected that she half-wished I would get out and push her all over town. Or just give her a hard shove so that she could rocket down the long hallways.

Neither of us spoke a word. My stomach was too twisted into knots to speak. An entire colony of butterflies, moths and bats had taken to living within. The very idea of Layla, just lying there, motionless… I had nightmares every time I closed my eyes, watching her slip away, my hands grasping around air. In my dreams I saw that awful green line grow flat.

No. I would not think like that.

_But you are thinking that, aren't you?_

Well, I will stop thinking about things like that.

_But you're thinking something else. You feel GUILTY! _

No, no, no! I am not guilty.

_You felt nervous that Layla wasn't paying attention to the wheel. You keep asking yourself, what if I had told her to focus? Maybe she could have swerved away in time._

That might not have worked…

_Flora feels guilty, guilty, guilty…_

Ping. The metal doors slid open and Roxy pushed me out. Her thin lips, usually in a smile, were turned down at the corners. We all seemed to be under a heavy cloud that never let the sun shine through. The gentle squeak of rubber wheels against the linoleum floor sounded like shrieks of pain to me. Every sound I made seemed to echo off the walls, becoming louder by the second. The nurses appeared to be scowling at us, for disrupting the perfect silence that filled with white halls.

Why were hospitals white, anyways? Are doctors trying to mimic the supposed color of heaven, to ensure that patients always feel comfortable and safe? But white isn't always a happy color. The Chinese wear white at funerals, it is the color of snow and mourning. Or maybe it's the cheapest color of paint.

Room 201. Roxy rapped, more of smacked, in truth, on the door. What must have been minutes later, a thin nurse popped her head out. She looked positively dead on her feet, her short brown hair slipping out of its bun. A look of surprise crossed her face, probably shocked to see two teenage girls in a hospital.

"Yes?" she finally said, raking slim fingers through her messy hair.

"We're here to see Layla-Aisha Conner," Roxy said stiffly. To me, she looked just as worn out as the frazzled nurse. The nurse frowned, eyeing me.

"You can't stay for very long. She's still quite weak but I think she can handle a visitor," she murmured, opening the door wider. I glanced up at Roxy for confirmation. I didn't know if I had the strength to go in alone. But my pink haired friend only nodded, gently letting go of the chair. Shakily, I stood, carefully making my way into the room. The nurse shut the door behind me.

The room felt so cold as I wrapped my arms tighter around my thin frame. It was dark too, most of the glow coming from the many machines around me. I felt like I was entering a tomb, my only company coming from the whirr of equipment and the soft drip of liquid coming from the tube connected to someone's arm. The place was devoid of all color except for one, in the only bed right at the center of the room.

Her dark hair spread out around her face, like shadowy halo. Half a dozen doctors stood around her, carefully monitoring the bright screens. They watched me carefully, moving aside as I approached her elevated bed. She did not move at the quiet slap of my feet against the floor. Like the nurse, she seemed to have had all the life drained out of her, leaving nothing behind but a tired and fragile shell. I knew then that I would never feel comfortable in hospitals ever again.

I.V.s had been carefully placed all over her arms, connected to almost every contraption within the room. A Styrofoam slab, to account for her back, supported her head. A brace was strapped over her chest, keeping her breathing steady and even. She looked less and less like the girl I knew and more like a robot, only just being assembled within a strange lab. The doctors seemed to be faceless golems, evil creatures that could feel at all.

My breath caught in my throat as I searched the motionless girl for a sign-any sign- that proved that this could be Layla. Sadness filled me as I realized she was asleep, I would not get a chance to hear her voice and listen to her laugh. She probably didn't feel like laughing now. My soft, cool fingers brushed a few loose strands out of her face; gently tracing the myriad of cuts trailing down the side of her neck. I felt her pulse, slow and gentle, as my hand brushed against her throat.

She stirred, under my careful touches and I heard the beep of the heart rate monitor. A hand smoothly placed itself upon her chest, making sure she would not move too much. Her eyes fluttered and finally opened, her head turning to the side. Layla. That had not changed, her cerulean eyes still blazed bright. Her lips curled into a smile as she recognized me.

"Flora. You came," she said. Her voice was weak, whispery, like the thin rustle of leaves in the autumn wind. I took her hand and felt the warmth of life in her body, knowing that she was very much alive.

"Of course I came. I wanted to come for days but they wouldn't let me," I replied.

"Stupid doctors," Layla muttered and I laughed. It was still she, a little broken, yes, but they would never take away her personality. "I kept wondering, is she alright? Everyone came. Except Musa, because of her father."

"I'm sorry. Did Nabu come?" I asked hesitantly, wondering of her supposedly perfect boyfriend. Her face softened, a faint blush creeping up. She did not answer for I already knew.

"You always seem to be the one saying sorry. Don't be sorry for anything, Flora," she insisted, her grip tightening on my hand. "It was the driver's fault. Not yours, not ever yours. It was my mistake too."

"How could you have stopped it from happening?" Layla sighed, glancing at all the wires strapped to her body. She looked like a prisoner here, trapped, unable to ever move from her bed. But at least, the sight of her calmed me. Layla-Aisha Conner was very much here with me and breathing, breathing that I knew would not stop anytime soon. She might not have been able to stand but I had not lost her yet.

"I keep asking myself, _what if_? But now I see that _what ifs _are pointless. We can't change the past. It happened. Accept that it did and walk away a stronger person." Painstakingly slow, she fingered the bandages on my face.

"It's going to be scarred," I found myself saying and mentally slapped myself for it. Scars meant nothing; Layla was the one that deserved the true pity and tears. But she only gave a tiny flicker of a smile, her hand dropping back onto the bed.

"What are scars? Just little lines, running across your skin. Nothing awful unless you give it meaning. They're just scars, Flora. That's all. Move one with your life, forget that they're even there at all," she said, eyes half-closed and sleepy. The words seemed to fit and yet, I could not place nor understand them. But they seemed right, I was certain of that.

I turned to the one of the doctors. "How is she doing?" I whispered, watching my friend begin to drift back into dreamless slumber.

"Her condition is stabilizing. She's definitely going to be paralyzed from the waist down. There isn't much we can do but discharge her soon," he murmured softly, turning away from another contraption. "You should go now, Miss. She never stays awake for very long." I took one last look at my friend, like a broken angel who had fallen out of the sky. Then I turned to walk away.

"Flora?" a voice whispered. Layla's eyes were open again and she grinned at me. "Don't listen to those idiots. I'm going to walk again, just you wait and see." I smiled at her, even if my heart was breaking. She sounded so confident, so sure of herself. I didn't want to be there when she failed. "And if I don't," she added, "Then at least I'll get to constantly squash Riven's toes with my wheelchair every time he acts like a jerk."

For the first time in so many days, I found myself giggling, actually giggling. It felt good, just to be able to smile and laugh and feel the entire burden on your chest come off. Relief, pure and simple as Layla squeezed my hand one last time. She was alright and that was all that mattered. And just like that, the little hole where my worries for her had thrived, disappeared.

It took me a moment, sitting on the wheelchair, to realize that I was crying. But these were happy tears, trickling down my face. With a small smile, I brushed them aside and let Roxy push me back into the lift. She did not say one word to me but I saw her smile. And that was all I needed to see.

* * *

Three soft taps on the door startled me out of my daydreaming, sketchbook still open upon my lap. "Come in," I said, placing my drawings onto the table. Pushing the door open, with her arm in a sling, Tecna came in. "Tecna!" I cried, scrambling to hug her, cautiously avoiding her fracture. The most intelligent girl I had ever met grinned, sitting down on the chair.

"It's good to see you finally awake and looking happier," Tecna commented, nodding at my book, "I'm really sorry that I couldn't come sooner but my parents were very worried about my condition." She looked fresher; her hair neatly combed and clipped back perfectly. Her usual attire of bright purple had returned.

"I thought that you had already been discharged," I said, picking my words with caution, sitting on the edge of the bed. In truth, I had begun to worry that Tecna was not coming to see me. I had tried to reassure myself that in all the chaos, she had forgotten. But soon, I started to believe that perhaps she did not _want _to see me at all and had deliberately chosen not to return to the hospital. I had tried to convince myself that I was being foolish and insecure.

_As you always are._

I am not always that way.

_Yes, you are. You worry about everything. Everything. You're a little pathetic, aren't you?_

No…

_Pathetic…_

Tecna's voice snapped me from inner battle and I hastily resumed listening. "I was. My parents insisted I ought to stay at home for a few days. They only let me come visit you here after school," she explained.

_You worried for nothing._

"What's happening at school?" I whispered, almost afraid to find out. Tecna had looked exhausted when she had spoken of school. Was everyone pestering her for information? Had Musa returned? Or had her father decided that public school was turning his daughter into a rebel and withdrawn her? If that was the case, only Roxy and Tecna remained of our little group, along with perhaps Timmy and possibly Nabu. I highly doubted Timmy wanted Riven to join at all.

"Everyone is wondering where you and Layla have disappeared to. From my broken arm, it won't be long before they guess what happened," she said, pointing to the easily noticeable bulky cast. "Riven has tried to worm information out of us but I told him that if he wanted to know, he should just ask you himself." I let out a long sigh. A though occurred to me. How many times had he tried to call our house? Mama had not said anything.

"My parents are waiting outside," Tecna said, pushing a purple lock aside. Understanding her meaning, I nodded and she stood. "Don't worry about Riven, Flora. Don't worry about things that you can't solve right now. We'll help you out, Flora." With one last wan smile, she walked out the door, leaving me to puzzle out the real truth in what I had heard.

Fact 1: The whole school either knew or was on the verge of knowing. That was definite; one could not just disappear for a few days, wander in with a broken arm and explain that they had no clue where the others were.

Fact 2: Riven had become suspicious of my vanishing act and was attempting to figure it all out. Which meant he had called. And that lead to the fact that Mama had picked up the phone… I winced, imagining the great amount of yelling and cursing she had given him. Mama did not like men, did not trust them and without a shred of doubt, I knew she did not enjoy me spending time with him. This was horrible.

Forcing myself to continue breathing, I tried to think. I had to speak to him and soon. He deserved to know, to understand what had transpired. Meeting him face to face was impossible and Mama would skin me alive if I set one foot out of the hospital doors. But I had a better idea. Nerves on edge, I slipped out of bed and padded out into the empty hallway.

Mama and Miele had gone home, seeing as Mama still had to work and she refused to allow my little sister to skip school. From memory, I recalled that there was a small payphone near the stairs. My bare feet felt cold but at least they barely made a sound as I walked. Several nurses passed by, giving me odd expressions but most were too busy to really bother wondering about me at all.

Finally, I found the small machine, mercifully free. A large phone book lay below it but I didn't need to use it. I had memorized the number long ago. Feeling into my one and only pocket, I found a quarter that Mama had given me, just in case. My hand paused at the slot. Should I? With shaking fingers, I slipped it in. The black phone was heavy in my hands as I dialed, my heart racing.

One ring. Two rings. Three ri-"Hello?" the voice was male and unmistakably Riven's. My throat went dry as I choked on my words. I had hoped to get the answering machine. A strangled croak escaped my trembling lips. _Speak! _My conscience ordered. _Speak or you'll never get another chance._ "Hello?" he asked again, this time frustrated, "Who the hell is this?" I couldn't. I just couldn't.

But I was frozen to the ground. My mouth wouldn't move, my vocal chords too rusty to form a single syllable. Everything that I had planned to say did not appear. _Do it! Do it! Flora, do it now for god's sake! _Hello? Hello? Hello? Riven's voice repeated.

The shiny black phone slipped from my fingers, the dial tone all that Riven would ever hear.

**A.N. Yeah, it's a little short but I hope I got what I wanted across. Flora's already beginning to worry and her fear is too strong to allow her to speak to Riven. In a way, after the accident, it's as though she has to meet him all over again, to start over. In the next chapter, the bandages are finally going to come off and reveal the truth. **

**To everyone Chinese out there, Gong Xi Fa Cai! Happy Year of the Rabbit! Anyone here born in the year of the Rabbit or has a someone on the way who's going to be born in the Year of the Rabbit? **


	14. Face in Ruin, Girl Missing

**Disclaimer: **In a world where pigs fly and my breath makes cotton candy, I own Winx Club.

_Note: Yes, finally updated this story. Don't kill me! So, this is the chapter that hopefully you all have been waiting for, where Flora's new face is finally revealed! Not yet to the world, but to herself. I admit, it's a little short. I originally wanted to have Riven see her scars in this chapter but pushed it back to the next. Also, this chapter contains three POVs, the last being Flora's. Yes, I am making you all wait until the last part of this chapter to finally reveal the truth. I'm evil, I know. _

_Anyways, enjoy!

* * *

_

(Tecna's POV)

The cast was clumsy, uncomfortable on my arm. It was annoying, to say the least, a constant hassle as I attempted to move about. At least, I suppose, I should be glad that it was my left hand and not my right, my dominant hand. More than that, I'm lucky. Really lucky. I told myself that fact everyday. It's a logical conclusion. I am not dead. Therefore I am lucky. But it's not that easy to convince yourself.

At least Roxy and Timmy were around to support me, to pretend at least, that things hadn't changed. It was nice, to pretend, to act. Just like Shakespeare had said, _All the World's A Stage. _But when did the actors finally remove their masks and speak their true lines? That had always been my question.

The final bell rang, and I traveled the perfect fifteen steps that brought me from class to my locker. _No, not him. _He leaned against my locker, his sheer bulk blocking it completely. Where were Layla and Musa when I needed them? I paused, in the middle of step thirteen, glaring at him. Coolly defiant, he folded his arms across his chest and smirked cockily. It had occurred to me several times to do scans of Flora's brain to see how she could fall for someone like him.

"Could you move aside? I need to open my locker," I said, wishing that I was just as tough as Layla. Oh, how much I would love to give Riven a good hard kick. But Flora would have been furious at me and violence, in my opinion, solved nothing. Diplomacy, it was, then.

"Sorry, passage isn't free today," he replied nonchalantly. I scowled at him, almost ready to point out several things. Several, _very _important details that Riven, with a brain that could only handle females and the time of his next meal, hadn't seemed to understand. Well, I was going to make them sink into his thick skull, even if I would have to do with a sledgehammer. I stalked towards him, covering the distance in a single stride.

"Firstly, Riven," I stated, waving my right hand in front of his face, "I did not give you permission to joke around with me. Secondly, I am _not _and will never be your friend. Thirdly, if you have something to say, spit it out now. I do not have time for you and childish jokes." I fumed as he simply grinned, his stance even more relaxed than before.

"Well, if you want me to move, you need to pay the toll."

"I am not giving you money."

He chuckled at this. "The charge isn't money."

I resisted the urge to scream, knowing that it would only cause more problems. "Explain, please."

"You need to answer a question. Answer and I move. Simple." I frowned. I detected no hint of sarcasm, no attempt to fool me. Just an answer. A worthwhile deal.

"What's the question?" Riven's face turned from it's usual haughtiness to something akin to anger. I observed him as a scientist observes a lab specimen, as though he were a curious new creature for me to behold. He was frustrating, as I waited. What could he possibly need to ask me? Our social circle did not touch. Flora was the only link in the chain that bound us. Her link was already breaking on both ends. And then it clicked. _Idiot! _Of course he was here to interrogate me on Flora. Why else would he have even bothered making conversation? _He also could have been a tad more polite. _

"Where is Flora?" he asked through gritted teeth, "I know something happened last week. I know that you and Musa were injured. Is she hurt?" _No, please, don't drag me into this. Don't make me say these I promised not to. _He stared at me, with those intense blue eyes.

"I…can't tell you," I whispered. Even though she hadn't said it out loud, I knew that Flora hadn't wanted Riven to know. At least, not yet. She wanted to say it with her own voice, show her scars as proof that it was real. I would say nothing. "It's not my story to tell." His face hardened but I wanted to end it then and there. "Go and ask her yourself." I looked up at him. "She's alive, Riven. Is that enough of an answer for you?"

I pushed him aside, snapping my locker open. I expected an angry yell, a punch of my abdomen. But there was nothing. Riven was already gone.

* * *

(Riven's POV)

_Why doesn't her dumb apartment building have an elevator? _I cursed repeatedly as I mounted the stairs, hands shoved into my jean pockets. I was also cursing my own stupidity at my rush to reach her home. I didn't even know what I was going to say, dammit. What had I been thinking, that I was going to pound on her door, give her some long winded explanation on why I was there and expect her to fall into my arms? Fat chance. She would have slammed the door in my face. Or just go really red, make up some excuse and run off.

Finally, I tromped over the dusty wood and towards her door. It was late afternoon, rain already threatening above. Ah, February, the month of love. Nabu was probably already planning something grand and disgustingly romantic for Layla. I had never bothered doing anything for Valentine's Day. Musa had implied that she would have liked it but it wasn't my style. Sweeping Princesses off their feet was best left to men who had such skills.

I knocked as hard as possible on the shaky door, not really caring whether it toppled or not. This was important. _She's alive, Riven. Is that enough of an answer for you? _I growled low in my throat. That nerdy girl's answer had not been helpful. She was alive, yes, but who knew in what condition? For all I knew, Tecna's idea of 'alive' was a full-body cast. I waited a few moments but there was no answer. I slammed my fist on the door.

At last, with a creak, the door opened. There was no one there. My eyes traveled downwards to see a small girl, probably only six or seven. She had short brown hair, nearing blond and paler skin than Flora. Her eyes too, were green. She looked at me in confusion and not without a little apprehension. _Flora's sister? _The little girl clutched the door tight as though she wanted to close it as soon as possible. I squatted down in front of her.

"Are you that boy Flora's always sighing over?" she murmured, then clapped a hand over her mouth. _She sighs over me? _I admit, it definitely made my ego feel better.

"Uh…yes. And you are?" I asked.

"Miele. I'm her sister," the little girl replied, looking at the floor. I smiled. She was quite cute, this little girl, kind of reminding me of a miniature Flora.

"Can you tell me where Flora is?" The girl frowned, nibbling on her lip.

"Well…Flora's been at the hospital. But Mama said she's coming back today. She just left to see her! They'll be back soon," Miele said triumphantly, grinning at me. "You could wait for her. But outside, 'cause Mama doesn't let strange men enter the house," she added, apologetically. But I was no longer listening. Everything was beginning to snap into place and I did not like what picture this puzzle was forming.

"Miele," I said. The little girl cocked her head. "Don't tell her I came." Then I turned and I ran back down the stairs. Something told me that Flora would not want to see me now. _But she can't hide forever. Monday is soon to come.

* * *

_

One step, two. Foot over foot, sliding gently across the thin, silvery thread. I felt like the rope was getting thinner and that sooner or later, I wouldn't be able to walk anymore. My world had become a tightrope, with no net below. I was already standing high above, ready to fall to my doom. Then someone set one end of the rope on fire. There was no turning back, the only way was forward. Always forward, never back. The past had already crumbled into ashes. Should I keep moving, I wondered, or should I let go and allow myself to fall towards the darkness below?

The calendar did not lie. Friday, Friday, Judgement Day has arrived too soon. I had spent most of my hours mentally beating myself up over the phone call. I had gone from self-disgust to self-loathing and finally, self-pity. So close and I had let the chance slip through my fingers. I knew that I wasn't the most self-assured or confident or beautiful girl to walk the halls of Alfea High. It was a cause of great insecurity to me.

_You might not be so pretty anymore but he liked you. _The moment the thought appeared, I felt like kicking myself. Riven and I had never been more than friends. We had started off as enemies, then annoyances, friends and nothing more. Whatever that had started was over. People and therapists can say what they like but the fact remains. Everyone will always be judged by how they look.

_Just a foolish little girl with a stupid, childish crush on a dumb little boy._ I didn't want to believe it, didn't want to hear that anymore. But everyday, my mind whispered the same story.

"It's not true," I hissed. "It's not true."

_Just a foolish little girl with a stupid, childish crush on a dumb little boy.

* * *

_

Mama stroked my hair, as we waited for the doctor. I felt guilty, that I was taking Mama away from her job. We needed the money. I curled up tighter, pulling my soft gray sweater around me. I would be going home today, but not as Flora. Not anymore. Those days were over. The accident had taken it all away. It had changed nothing. It had changed everything.

"_Se__va a estar bien_, Flora. It doesn't matter how you look," she whispered, patting my hand. I forced a smile for Mama, trying to disguise my worry. I scratched at the white bandages, hiding the monster beneath from the world. The doctors had said the scars were permanent; that they would never fade away. I had never thought that I was a vain person. Now I was consumed by my appearance.

The door creaked open, a nurse motioning that we were to come with her. I walked like a prisoner about to face the gallows, each step heavy and forced. At last, my slow plod brought me in front of the doctor's door. My future lay behind it. I shivered; there was something ominous about how much power that door had. In hindsight, in seems almost laughable at how afraid I was. At the time, goose bumps were already appearing on my skin.

My movements were strange, trance-like; I felt detached from reality. I barely felt myself sit down and wait as I was examined. The doctor's words were muffled, distant, as though I were underwater, trying to listen. Then I felt the nurse begin to pull at the bandages, finally removing them. I yelped as she tore them off, my skin feeling raw and strange. I didn't want to touch it, uncertain of what I would feel beneath the grooves of my fingertips. But the doctor was already forcing a mirror into my hands, for me to finally see my nightmare come alive.

The gashes seared across the left cheek, criss-crossing in a horrible, twisted pattern. No longer red, but still as harsh. They seemed to pull and tear at the skin, warping it into an almost ungodly appearance, like a rotting body, sick of sin. Somehow, it changed the entire expression, every little detail seemed wrong, out of place. The eyes were darker, different, staring out like deep black pools of quagmire. One gash cut just beneath it, making the eye seem blind and torn. Even the mouth was sadder, old. The face had been laid waste.

The person in the mirror was a stranger, an alien. Slowly, shaking, the girl raised her hand to cover the scars. Flora. It was me, yes, I knew it. I let my hand fall to my lap. A stranger once more, stared back at me. I wanted to scream, to cry, to claw away what had happened. Only a thin, choked sound was heard. It was worse, so much worse than what I had thought. It was not me. My reflection was not me. It could not be. But the stranger blinked as I did, moved as I did.

"Flora, Flora," Mama whispered, as though trying to comfort herself as well as me. More talking, but I heard nothing from inside my cold, dark space where I now lived. And then we were leaving; I was gone, free from my hospital prison. Funny, how freedom only seemed to bind me tighter, the chains never loosening. I hid away, on the ride home, my hood pulled up, my face to the window. My hand never left it, as though if others could not see it, I couldn't either.

Miele gasped, almost screamed as I came in. But I was too far away to hurt anymore. There was nothing left to destroy. Gone, just gone. Everything. My body found the couch, let itself fall onto it. And then everything let go.

I was crying, big, wracking sobs that wouldn't stop. My throat felt tight, as I finally set the tears free. Every bit of sadness and heartache spilled out. Ugly, horrible, disgusting. Words too gentle to describe what was now me.

_Flora is nothing, Flora is weak, Flora is helpless, Flora is ugly…_ I let my subconscious have a field day. It didn't matter if it wasn't true. It sounded true enough to me.

I wanted to sleep and never wake up. Death was freedom. Death was liberation. My body was numb. _Kill me. I will feel no pain._

I have a face laid waste.

* * *

**A.N. I feel a little guilty about how much I have made Flora suffer. She's exaggerating...probably. Feel free to imagine how grotesque or normal she looks. The description of her face was inspired by the book "The Lover" by Margueritte Duras. **

**Seva a estar bien means it will be fine. **

**Hopefully, I'll have the next chapter up soon. Tell me what you think. Review, please! **


	15. To Enact Love During the Play

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Winx Club, sadly. Really, if I did own Winx Club, this pairing would be REAL!

_Note: *Ducks tomatoes and crowd screaming* Yes, I know I've been gone a long time. Which is why, as a peace offering, I have written this EXTREMELY long chapter. Its over 5,000 words and includes a very sweet Riven/Flora moment. I really hope it satisfies you because I labored over it for days, trying to make it really feel right. Anyways, this is fifteenth chapter of this story, if you count the prologue, which means we're about 3/4s of the way in! I feel like dancing because so much has changed since I posted this story for the first time. I never knew that it would grow to be one of my most successful stories. At the moment it has, **33 Reviews**, **2, 490 Hits**, **7 Faves **and **Nine Story Alerts**! I'm so touched that everyone likes this story so much! In fact, I'm going to be really sad when this story is over. But anyway, here's the chapter that you've all been waiting for! _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

_Does it matter – losing your legs?_

_For people will always be kind,_

_As you sit on the terrace remembering_

_The days you could walk and be free._

_Does it matter – losing your face?_

_For beauty is inconsequential,_

_And no one will care a bit _

_When you remember what once was. _

_Did they matter – those dreams of brighter days?_

_Of a future that might have been,_

_Of hopes that were shattered one day,_

_But I suppose it doesn't matter one bit._

* * *

"Flora! Enough! You are going to school now!" Mama shrieked, looking as though she might physically drag me there herself. That itself was possible, seeing as I was not particularly heavy and Mama had arms that put wrestlers to shame. But I didn't care. Mechanically, I had gotten out of bed, showered and shoveled food in my mouth, unable to tell what exactly I was eating. And now I sat there, staring at the table top, fingers drawing circles on its hard surface.

Mama threw her hands in the air in disgust. "You are impossible, you know!"

_Acting like a brat to Mama I see,_ inner Flora muttered, _I'm disappointed in me, you, us. _As rude as she was about it, inner Flora was right about her…uh, me. Why was I being so spoilt, not answering Mama when she asked me questions? I wasn't even trying to be friendly or polite. I was being cruel to her. _Don't forget vain, since you spent almost fifteen minutes scrutinizing your face in the mirror, squinting up your eyes and then opening them, in hopes that your face disappears. Closing your eyes doesn't mean that what's out there ceases to exist. It's still there. Open your eyes and see. _

I had been a phantom over the weekend, just a silent presence of a waif-like girl. I ate, I slept, I talked. But I didn't live. Like my heart had just crumbled into little pieces and the shriveled mass could not afford to let any happiness within. I was tired. Tired of being mocked and jeered, tired of trying to be happy, tired of hoping that _this _would be the better place that I was always looking for. Because it was never the better place. There was no better place. So I stopped trying to find it. Mama could drag me to every state in the country but I could guarantee that they would all be the same. I used to hope that the next day would bring miracles. But the hope had died.

But looking at Mama's face, at the anger and grief that I was causing her, I felt immensely guilty. For being selfish in this way. For hurting Mama when I had sworn that I would do everything to see her laugh the way she'd done when Papa was still with us. I felt sick with guilt. _I am a bad daughter. I try so hard to be kind and sweet and nice but in the end, people just take it as an excuse to walk all over me and use me for their own gain. I try not to be so easy-going and then I end up hurting people more. Worse, I hurt myself as well. _

Sighing, Mama sat down beside me, turning my head so it faced her. "I know you are sad, _mi flor_. I know you feel that the world has ended. That others have no right to be happy while you suffer," she whispered, brushing a strand of my hair aside. Her face was pale, like Miele's, great creases left in what had once been glowing with youthful pride. Now, she looked worn and beaten down by all that had ever happened. Mama had grown old, and I hadn't noticed. But the age in her face was caused by more than just the years that she had lived. It was a sadness that had grown like a cancer around her heart.

_Oh Mama…you talk this way like you have felt such a thing before. Could it be that you remember…_

"When your father left," she said softly, like it hurt just to speak, "I didn't know what to do. To go outside and be mocked as shameful excuse for a woman, as a woman who had served as nothing more than a tool for him? Or to hide within my home and feel like a coward? I didn't want to trust anyone. I wanted to be left alone. To cry alone. To me, there was no point in living anymore." Mama looked at her hands and then turned to look at me.

"But I knew that it was wrong. That couldn't let myself die and take my two beautiful girls with me. I had to do something with my life."

"What did you do, Mama?" I asked, meeting those green eyes, the only physical feature I had inherited from her. _Miele looks like her. I look like Papa. Papa, whom I have blamed for every misfortune in my life._ She smiled, settling back.

"Simple. I walked out of my home with my head held high and didn't listen to a single taunt." _Ahh, but you can't do that, you see, because you're so much weaker than her, isn't that right, Flora? _I had a good mind to throw the hag that lived in my head out the window. Gently, Mama ran her fingers through my hair, weaving it into a long plait. The bangs that I had desperately arranged to hide my face fell away, showing the scars to the world. "There. Perfect. Wait! And take off that stupid sweater."

"But Mama, I'm cold!" I protested loudly, hugging the frayed cloth tight against my body.

"No, you aren't. Take it off." With great reluctance, I peeled off my standard gray sweater, revealing the simple pink shirt and blue jeans I wore underneath. My sweater had concealed it well, covering it up so appeared more frail and unappealing. But now, I looked like _different. _Like from before. _No, no, I can't! I promised myself I wouldn't try to attract attention! That I would be more careful!_

"I look stupid," I stated, reaching to undo the thick braid she had tied. Warm hands clasped over mine and gently lowered them back to my lap. The hands were callused from years of hard work and quiet suffering. But they were still soft to me, these familiar hands. _Mama's hands. Like I remember. From long ago. Before Papa left. Before there was sadness. _

"No, _mi flor, _you are beautiful." And with that, she gently nudged me off towards the front door, shooting me one last youthful grin.

"_Darles __el infierno_."

* * *

The bus driver gasped when I stepped abroad. At least, I thought I heard him. It could have been the old lady with a _Seventeen_ magazine. It could have been the businessman with a thick mustache using his phone. It could have been…wait, no. The goth teenager at the back sent me an approving glance. He must have thought that they were tattoos. _It's my face! _I wanted to scream. _It's my face so please don't look at me in that way. Please look beyond them. _But they were total strangers. They could look no further than my superficial beauty.

So I just curled up by the window and watched the sky, the gray, moody, tearful sky.

* * *

_Frightened of entering one tiny little building? Wimp. _

I am not afraid.

_Are you? How long will take you, Wimp, to finally get a backbone? How long will it be before you can stand on your own without crying? _

I…

_Face it, Wimp. You are weak. You will not be strong. Not ever._

It was just a few paces. A few short footfalls. It couldn't have been that hard. Just to walk. Instead of standing there, waiting for miracles. Miracles I wished would come. But never did. Like Papa. Who never came back.

"Flora." But at least my friends were here. And I smiled. To thank them. For trying to be there for me. For being here for me. Roxy placed a hand on my shoulder while Tecna offered me a rare smile. She ought to smile more often. "You can't stay out here forever," Roxy insisted, gripping me tight, a teasing smile on her pale face. _She looks happy. Or she's faking it, trying to be strong. _

"Flora, you have to make a choice. I know you're hurt and all, but really, it's becoming ridiculous. Really," Tecna stated. She didn't mean as criticism or an insult, just a fact. She was trying to be kind. By telling the truth. I nodded, understanding this and with that, she folded her arms and walked up the stone steps. Tecna had made her point known. My braid fluttered in the wind. And I let my hand fall from my cheek. Roxy's fingers slipped away.

"It's true, you know. It hurts but it's true." _I know it's true, Roxy. I've known it's true for years. I just never listened to that truth. _Her lips forced upwards, into a horrible impersonation of a smile. _Please don't try for me, Roxy. Please don't. _Her pink hair flapped behind her as she sprinted into the school building, to show that I had to do this on my own. It was just a few paces. Which I had to make. For Layla, Tecna, Roxy, Timmy, Riven, Miele, Mama…and me. For my own sake.

Like a puppet who's strings have finally been pulled, I moved. I really moved. Shouldering my backpack, my frayed sneakers marched me up the familiar steps and into the Institute of Hell.

* * *

The whispers were the first thing I heard. Soft, like tiny breaths on my skin that pricked harder and harder with each gust. They're quiet at first, barely noticeable. But they grew, like a roar that overwhelms and drowns out everything. I tried not to listen. I swear on my soul that I tried. Maybe not hard enough to keep the whispers out.

'_Oh my god, what happened to her __**face**__?' 'Ew, that's just disgusting!' 'Dude, check out that out!' 'She was that girl in the car accident, wasn't she?' 'Serves her right, the tart.' 'Is it wrong to think that looks horrible?' 'Huh, now she'll finally leave Riven alone!' 'Who is that?'_

From the insults, to the pity, to the horror, it is the last that hurts the most. 'Who is that?' They can't tell who I am. Can I still tell who I am? My fingers twitch. No. I promised myself not to touch it. Not to smooth my fingers over it, like trying to get rid of ugly creases. Even as the needles pricked deeper still, I wouldn't pretend that it wasn't there.

Gently, I reached my locker, twirling the combination lock like I had been doing it for years. Reality-wise, it was only February, the second week of, and I had been in Seattle for close to six months. It had felt like forever. Not a horrible forever, but perhaps, worth shedding some tears over, at the end. I pulled my books out, dumped what I needed and slammed it shut. Like nothing had ever happened. The familiarity was comforting. Despite my anxiety and melancholy, I had missed this place. Most of it.

Turning, my eyes traveled to my right and I almost choked. _Oh no. _Riven was walking down the corridor, hands jammed into pockets, looking like he could murder some poor soul just by looking at them sideways. I wasn't sure whether to collapse or head for the hills. I had not expected this. I was not prepared for this. I hadn't wanted to face him, to watch his reaction. Because he would never see anything more than my face. Because he didn't know me. No, that wasn't true. He knew me. But not enough for me to say that he would see beyond what was skin-deep. Or was that my fear speaking out? What was I to do?

I knew what Mama would say. As for the others? Tecna would have told me to be smart and do what made sense. Musa would tell me that was being stupid. Roxy would have told me to get a grip. Layla would have said to be brave. But, for the first time in many days, I asked myself, _what would I do_? What would the old me have done, the one who had too many boyfriends and did things she regretted? What about the me before the accident, the shy, insecure girl who could barely speak two words to him? And now, the girl the accident created, when it split my life in two, before and after? Because that was what it had done, divide my life that way? So what would she do?

All I knew was that I either had to face my fears and talk to him or run the other way. Or throw up, that was viable option as well. But…no. The hallway was the wrong place to do this. To really talk to Riven. Not with a dozen eyes glaring daggers and heated whispers that would never give me a day of peace. I couldn't speak freely here. I didn't want what we spoke of to be heard by hundreds and twisted into something awful and spread around like a disease. So I turned and walked to class, feeling his gaze prick me harder than ever before. _I'm not leaving. I will tell you. I promise._

* * *

Trouble found me, Wednesday afternoon, as school let out. To this day, I'm still fairly certain they chose this moment specifically, when everyone was in the vicinity, teacher's were too busy and couldn't care less and none of my friends were in sight. It was a smart move, I admit. In our little game of chess, it had yet to be determined who would be the winner. I knew who held more pieces than the other. But I knew that luck could change for another to call checkmate. But I still steeled myself for the fight.

"Finally back, Flora? Tell me, where were you, _exactly_?" The horrible purr that I had learnt to dread slipped through my defenses. I refused to turn around and respond, keeping my head buried in my locker. _Don't respond, that'll only make it worse. _"Come now, what do you have to hide? We all want to see the face we've missed for so long, mm?" A low ripple of laughter swept through the crowd. She was baiting me and I knew it. I stood, statue-like. A cold hand seized my arm, nail biting into skin, and whirled me around.

All of them at once, Bloom, Stella, the Witch Sisters and followers. My stomach churned uncomfortably as they stared at me, both in shock and revulsion. I hated it, feeling like I was shrinking beneath their gaze. Put on display like a freak. Icy snickered. "Oh no, people, it's not that bad, don't be shocked," she trilled. Her siblings laughed. The crowd whispered. And I wanted the Earth to swallow me whole.

"Exactly. I mean, it's hideous and creepy and looks like its cutting your face into little pieces like some demonic plague but really, it isn't that bad," Darcy added, smirking. She stepped closer, grinning at me.

"It must be so hard, Flora, being scarred like that. Why, I would never be able to understand that kind of pain," she said, with mock drama. If it had been Roxy or Musa saying this, I would know they were being serious or joking, at least. And if it were my friends joking, I would laughed and poked them affectionately. But these were not my friends and the words she spoke were meant as insults rather than jokes.

"Is it hard," she whispered, "To be treated like a monster? To feel like you're no longer you? To wonder if people will _ever love you again?_" She was too intuitive for her own good. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Bloom and Stella were both looking mildly uncomfortable. My eyes saw this but my brain didn't quite function to process it. _Not possible. How could she know that this is all that I fear? How does she know all this? _

"Yes," Icy murmured, "What was all the fuss earlier about? Something about you trying to get a guy? Is that right? Well, all the fuss can die down and you can just relax and stop making a scandal!" I blinked. Twice. Did all bad guys have to speak in riddles? "Boy, you really are dense, aren't you? Now that you're this way, he'll never like you. Now you can go on with your life as a background character and everyone goes home happy, hmm?" _No! Definitely not! I won't let you do that to my life! That can't happen! _And as the crowd laughed, I felt myself die. I thought of the man who had died in the accident and suddenly I wanted to run to his grave and bury myself with him.

"You know, I distinctly remember telling you three to stop being psychotic bitches, am I right?" Riven casually leant against the lockers, arms folded. He glared at them, his ex-ex-girlfriend – since Musa held title as ex-girlfriend- looking especially pissed off. I almost wanted to laugh. _Ah Riven, you always know how to make my day. _As Musa would say, he was very effective at 'taking out the trash'. Darcy scowled. Was he trying to rescue me from their evil clutches?

"Get lost Riven. We're not doing anything wrong!" she snapped. Riven arched an eyebrow.

"Really? Haven't heard that excuse before. Did you just make it up?" he commented dryly. Darcy glared at him. He shrugged. "Ah well, I'll be around, if anyone happens to miss me." With that, he was out the door, throwing me once last look. Something like, _Don't do anything overtly stupid, _or, _They're all telling lies _or, _Just get out of there already so I can shake you by the shoulders on why you've been avoiding me! _He hadn't rescued me. But the fact that he had been there for a moment gave me a bit more courage.

"Well, where were we? Ah yes, I remember now," Darcy said. She grinned, which at best, would probably sent the bravest of men running to the hills in terror. "But, that obviously doesn't please, you does it, Flora?"

I wished I was as strong as Musa, then I would have done something rash like hit them. But I'm not Musa.

"But…I'm sure some people are real happy about it, aren't they?" she asked, cocking one of her hips. To say I was utterly confused would have been putting it lightly. As far as I knew, there was absolutely no one who was delighted at my…transformation. Well, except for all the people who hated me, but I was certain that wasn't what she meant. She must have read the noticed my befuddlement and laughed. "Why, my dear, naïve Flora, I'm talking about your mother!"

"My…mother?" I whispered. It was official. They were all insane.

"Are you stupid?" Stormy snapped, about three inches from my face. Her breath smelt. "Haven't you figured it out? Your mother's so sick of seeing a face that looks like her husband. Now, she's happy, she never has to see his ugly face again, just her daughter's ugly face, which she's just fine with!" _No, no, Mama would never think that way of me. How do they always seem to find out all my secrets? Why do they have to have so many connections until they're breathing down everyone's necks? _

"You're wrong!" I cried, feeling the blood pounding in my ears. "You're wrong! My mother never thought that! She loves the way I look, even with these scars and she's sad that I've become this way, not happy! The only people who are happy are you, just because you hate me so!" The adrenaline rush was gone as quickly as I had came. The witch sisters stood there, stunned, as though I had physically slapped them across the face. I didn't wait to see how they would react. I turned and ran, ran as far as I could.

* * *

The minute I burst out of the doors, I was soaked. The rain had started again. I reached for my umbrella, then stopped. _Oh, what's the point. Nothing will ever go my way. I'm just not a lucky person. I'm not like the birds, that can spread their wings and fly away from here. I couldn't be a sparrow if I tried. _I didn't even want to take the bus. I would walk home. It wasn't horribly far. I could take the time to feel awful. My hair stuck to my face, my clothes damp against my skin. I trudged through the rain, splashing through the puddles. Looking down, I saw my reflection, I saw _her. _

_How strange. That my reflection is nothing more than a stranger to me. I wonder where, Flora has disappeared to?_ I wanted to place my feet within each puddle and hope that they would carry me far away.

_Flora is weak…_

No. I remembered what Mama had said. This had to stop. This had to stop now. I could not forever hide myself away in the shadows. I had to be strong for everyone and especially for myself. I was sixteen. Why was I wasting away my life, trapped in this shell of a person? For years, after Papa left, I had crumbled. I had hidden away behind thick walls because I was afraid of future. But the walls had fallen away. They had collapsed a long time ago. And I had to let them go. I had to regain all the pieces, the little things that I had lost that made me whole.

I couldn't go back to being how I used to be, years ago. But I could be close to that girl, without losing the me I was now.

And most importantly, I think I, and Mama, had to finally let Papa go. And now that I think about it, he was never really there at all, for us. He didn't pat my head when I did well, he didn't smile when I needed him to. I had made up all those happy memories, to try and fill the hole that he had left. But we had to accept that he had taken away that hole when he left us. That we had to move on with our lives and forget Papa. To stop blaming him for everything, when he was already gone. Papa isn't here anymore. And I must accept that.

I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling a chill run through me at what I thought. But it was the right choice, the only choice. I brushed my hand against my cheek and let it rest there. _Where has Flora disappeared to? Or do I already know the answer? _

"Need an umbrella?" The voice cleared my head and shook me from my epiphany. I glanced up, seeing a red umbrella over my head. I followed the handle, to the arm that held it, to the person it was connected to. Riven smirked at me, cocky as ever. But his eyes were hard and I knew it. Numbly, I nodded, slowly moving closer to him so that the umbrella would cover us both. We both began walking, even though we both did not know where we were going. Just two lost souls, walking together, under the cover of rain.

"Riven…I," I whispered, trying to form my thoughts into words.

"You don't have to tell me anything," he said, turning his head a little to look at me, more than a head shorter. We stopped, staring at each other. I looked into his dark eyes, trying to understand him. "You're a lot like me. We both have had lives that are hard. And it's difficult for us to open up. To want to tell other people about our problems." The rain dripped down around us, like a pleasant background music. But all I could hear was Riven's voice, the only sound that mattered.

"I want you to know that I trust you," he said, "Hell, it's hard for me to trust anyone. But you're the only person I've met who's never forced me to speak my mind and tell them everything." _And you never tried to make me either, at least, not much. And for that, Riven, I am and will always be grateful. _"It doesn't matter to me, whether you have gills or three eyes or scars all over your face." He bent down, until he was almost level with me. I wished he would take his hand and let his warm palm hide away the scars. It was at that moment that I wanted to hold him and hold him tight, and never let him go. "You're still Flora to me."

He ran his fingers through his hair, like this was making him uncomfortable. And I felt special, that he was going way out of his comfort zone just to tell me something important. I felt prickly all over, like there was electricity in the air, hovering between us. "All I'm saying is, I have no right to know. It's your business and I have no right to try and find out what happened. I can't try and understand, because if I try, there's no way I'll come out clean." His hand clenched for a moment and for a second, I wanted to reach down and grab it, to smooth clear his troubles. Because he spoke the truth and it like he was washing away all the lies that had been told.

"So, I'll wait. When you're ready, when you want to talk…talk to me," he whispered. _And I will. When I'm strong, when I'm ready, I will sit down with you and tell you everything. I'll tell everything that I've hidden. Everything and I promise that. _

"But Riven…" I said softly, looking up at him, "You must be ready too." He cocked his head, waiting for my response. His eyes said, _go ahead, tell me. _And for once, I let myself speak freely. "Because if I talk to you, there's no guarantee that you will like what you hear. Please understand, that if I talk to you, you must promise that you will listen and not judge me for what I say. And you have to be ready to hear me, to hear everything when I finally pour my heart out. Can you promise me..." I gulped at this point, scared of what I was asking of him but knowing that I must. "Can you promise me that you will do all that? And you will only ever ask me when you're ready as well?" He nodded, once, and smiled, a simple acknowledgment of a promise that I knew we would both keep. Because I trusted Riven. A lot.

We both started walking again, side by side. I felt the warmth of his body near me, heard his soft breathing as I watched him. I watched the way his brow would furrow when he thought of something confusing or secret, then smooth again when he chanced upon a funny thought. I liked to watch the way his lips curved just a little bit at the corners, a real smile and not the smirk that he had always showed. And when I watched him, I felt much. No, I felt too much all of a sudden. I almost wanted to tell him _everything. _But I couldn't. Not yet. Not just yet.

"But…" Riven added, smirking, "You're still an idiot for always being scared of everything!" All sweet thoughts immediately burnt as I glared at him.

"What?" I cried, turning to face him, hands shoving into his chest – never mind that it was a very muscular chest. "I just made you keep such a big promise and you…" He was laughing. "What are laughing for? This isn't funny! Stop laughing!" He grinned at me and I felt myself melting in that smile.

"You didn't let me finish. I said you're an idiot." He moved closer. "But you're the best idiot I've ever met." I stared at him, open-mouthed. He had just insulted me. But he had also given me a compliment. _Oh, Riven, only you could make a girl feel like killing you and loving you at the same time. _I felt a few tears pooling in my eyes.

"Jerk," I said, "You jerk." Now he looked angry and shocked and guilty. He grimaced, trying to be apologetic.

"Look, Flora, I was…" he started but I shook my head. Slowly, I brushed the tears away and smiled.

"Riven, you're a jerk, you're too arrogant and sometimes I feel like tearing my hair out in frustration." He scowled at me, disliking the criticism. "But I wouldn't have it any other way." He stared at me, shocked. His lips cracked into a smile. And then, like friends, we were laughing together, under that red umbrella, in the rain, in Seattle.

_He's just using you, he's just using you, he's just…_

No. Riven is not using me. Riven would never, ever do something like that to me. Please, go away.

Gently, carefully, I let my hands move of their own accord as they grasped Riven's arm. I felt, beneath his loose, baggy shirt with another underneath, the heat from his body and the toned muscles that he had shaped after years of working out. Such a contrast from me, who was tiny and petite against him. Carefully, I leaned closer towards him, until I could feel his shoulder underneath my head. It was the bravest thing I had ever done towards Riven. I expected him to push me away, but he didn't. Instead, he adjusted himself, so that he could continue to hold the umbrella while I held onto his arm. And I felt light. Happy. His action could have meant a lot of things.

If a person glanced at us, walking together, they might have thought that we were a couple. But maybe, they might have thought that I cared for him very much and held him as a show of affection, but he only let me hold him as a sign of our friendship, nothing more, so I said nothing so as not to ruin it. It could have even been the other way around, if a random stranger had looked at us. But that didn't matter to me.

At this moment, we were friends. But…_Riven, if you're upset, I'll be the shoulder you cry on. If you're angry, I'll be the one that doesn't tell you to cool it and instead let's you simmer down and calm yourself. If you're hurt, I'll be the arm that rests around your shoulders to comfort. If you want to talk, I'll be the ear that listens and listens without judgement or verdict. _

Because I didn't want to destroy the relationship we shared. What we shared wasn't like in the teen love stories or movies, a dramatic thing brought together by a hate-turned love romance, passionate kisses and beautiful dance scenes to a pop song at the end. Ours was a fragile, delicate thing, pieced together by a mutual trust and quiet, sweet moments together of a simple happiness that we found in one another. We were two very different people who managed to find a way to live with one another, despite all our differences and problems. I'd like to see other girls in love stories try and find something like this that we have found.

And I didn't want to break this trust that we had. I didn't want to lose something like this. _I guess, Riven, that this still shows that I'm scared. That might be true. But at least, I'm not scared about how I feel towards you. It doesn't matter to me that this love I hold for you might be unrequited. This kind of love, I suppose, the one that I feel, is often unrequited. It's not that I'm far away from you, watching from a distance, crying hard as I see you with another. Unrequited love is when you're with someone you care about everyday, talking with them, sharing your moments with them even if they feel nothing for you. But it doesn't hurt, you know? It doesn't hurt. Because you get to be with that person and that's enough. _

I looked at the rain, looked at the overcast sky and watched it weep. But the tears were setting me free, showing me the truth. And there was hope still, I knew. I would take it slowly, carefully. I leaned against Riven and breathed him in. And as we walked in the rain, I smiled.

_I will be all of those things for you. But if you want me to be more than that, if you want me to be something special in your heart, please, just know, that I'll always be right next to you._

* * *

**A.N. Awww. Because they have to have sweet moments with each other. Originally, this scene was actually going to be very different, with Riven accusing Flora of not being strong enough. And Flora stays there alone, weeping. But then, I thought, no, that's not what I want. I wanted them to finally make a breakthrough in their relationship. I know some of you would have been expecting a kiss, but you'll have to wait a little longer for that! Because I wanted to show that their relationship isn't this huge, explosive thing but one based on trust. I think, and this is only my opinion, so you can disagree, that the reason why Musa and Riven isn't really working out is because they don't trust one another. **

**In Season One, Riven broke Musa's trust in him which is why in Season 2, it was difficult for them to get together. Her trust in him wavered in Season Three and in Season 4, they temporarily broke up because Riven couldn't trust Musa to be faithful with him. Flora/Riven is an opposites attract kind of thing, they bring out the best in one another and they don't have to be showy to show they care. And doesn't Flora sound so 'unselfish' at the end? Like, I won't ruin our friendship for the sake of my feelings because I want you to be happy. **

**Anyways-this is a super long note- next chapter: Layla appears! Where has Musa been hiding? Riven and Flora are very close! Also, please review! I would be overjoyed if this reached forty or even fifty reviews! (But don't give twenty anonymous reviews pretending to be different people) I know there are more people out there reading this! Please tell me what you think, like, hate, want to see, want me to improve! **

**Stay tuned for the next chapter! (I'll try and get it out soon)**


	16. Return

_Disclaimer: If I owned Winx Club, they wouldn't be able to broadcast it on Nickelodeon. _

_It's been...one and half years since I updated? I'm really, really, really sorry for that. I lost all my files, and school pretty much consumed my life. On top of that, I started moving on to other fandoms, and my writing style has changed drastically. I was almost afraid of reading this again, but after reading through some Flora/Riven fanfictions - especially those by Chibi Horsewoman and Renachi - I got the courage and inspiration to read and continue writing. I'm not going to promise anything stellar for this chapter - far from it - since I'm mainly trying to recall what I was planning as well as regain my footing in the Winx fandom, so please, bear with me. That is, if there's anyone still reading this sorry excuse for a well-written story. Anyways, I hope it's satisfactory at least. Please enjoy. _

* * *

Being in unrequited love was easy, in so many ways. There were no fears about dates and kisses and being a good girlfriend and what not to say. It was just me, smiling and giggling and just being around Riven, as his friend, because that was all he wanted me to be. Because that was what unrequited love was.

It was the one of the most painful things in the world.

But it was alright.

_Or you're just weak and pathetic and a masochist._

I'm not weak. I'm not.

_You can't even tell him you're in love with him. How spineless._

If I am you, then it means **you're **spineless too, correct?

_Are you just going to waste away your whole high school life, pining after him? This is the stupidest thing you've ever done. _

No. This is the smartest thing I've ever done. This is one of the few things I'm proud of. So go away.

I could wait. I could wait a long time. This wasn't like the one-night stands and false relationships that I'd had a long time ago. This was something fragile and breakable. So if Riven didn't love me, then he didn't love me. It was as simple as that. So I would wait, until the day that it was otherwise.

* * *

It had been nearly a week since my return to Alfea High, and while things weren't perfect, they weren't bad either.

Life had definitely improved after my little talk with Riven. I still hadn't told him everything, but at least I wasn't avoiding him. We weren't exactly back where we'd started, or back where we were before the accident. We were teetering on an edge, uncertain whether to move backwards, or jump forwards, into something neither of us was prepared for.

But Riven was happy – or as happy as he was willing to show. And that was enough for me.

Except there was still the issue of Musa and Layla. I had barely spotted Musa anywhere in the halls, and she didn't respond to me at all. It was hard for me, but it was worse for Tecna and Roxy. They had lost her once, and that been painful enough.

And now the accident threatened to tear her away for good.

I pushed my mind back to the moment. We could worry of Musa later. Today was the day Layla returned to school. No one was quite certain what to expect. No one knew what to say, either.

None of us wanted to show outward sadness at her appearance, but feigned happiness seemed an insult. _Where did our better days go? _I wondered.

"She _is _coming today, right?" Roxy demanded, tapping one foot impatiently. Tecna nodded, checking the time on one of those strange devices of hers. I bit my lip, wishing that I had the warmth of my jacket to curl into. I'd left it behind, as a symbol that I wasn't going to hide anymore. I squared my shoulders.

Maybe it was time I was strong for others, and maybe, just maybe, I should be strong for myself too.

Finally, an incredibly fancy car drove up, of a model I didn't recognize. Musa had mentioned to me that Layla's parents were rich, and they didn't seem to mind splurging on her. Nabu emerged from the passenger side, and, with great care, helped Layla out and into her wheelchair. When Nabu finally moved aside to let us look at her properly, my mouth closed. I had no words for what I saw.

My heart clenched. She looked tired, almost worn-out, as though the loss of her legs had drained everything from her. She seemed smaller almost, like the husk of what had once been a girl. It was like a caged animal; where she should have been free to move, she was bound to sit and watch. Turning to face us, she gave a small smile. It was half-hearted, and painfully sad, but it was Layla.

For a moment, we all stood there, frozen, as though uncertain of what to do.

And then we were running towards her, and grabbing her and hugging her and sobbing, because maybe she couldn't walk, couldn't run and dance and be everything that had made her Layla, but at least she was _there. _

I didn't want to think about how close we'd been to losing her forever. Didn't want to think about the grief that we would have all gone through. She was _there, _inches away, real and breathing and _alive_, and there was nothing else in this moment that mattered but that.

She laughed, and even though it was choked and watery, it was still a laugh, and we were crying all over again.

"Hey girls," she said, carefully reaching up to hug all of us. Her movements were a little slower, a little more hesitant and delicate, and all I could think of was her none-too-gentle punch underneath that blue sky, a lifetime ago.

"I've missed you all," she rasped, and her arms tightened.

She let us go, but none of us moved away. None of us were ready to leave her side just yet. Nabu hovered nearby, and she waved him off, kissing him on the cheek. Reluctantly, he did, but not without shooting Tecna a look that clearly indicated, _you all had better take good care of her._

As though we would ever let anything hurt her again.

Her eyes moved from Roxy's washed-out hair and eye-bags, to Tecna's sling to my face. Her expression tightened a little at the sight of my scars. A corner of my mouth turned up, or it tried to.

"It's okay," I reassured her, "We're all okay."

It was half a lie, but it was so much better than the truth.

"Nice wheels," Roxy said, with a lopsided smile. Layla nodded, running her finger over the gleaming metal.

"I've been practicing with them for ages, so now I can run over the Trix's feet and make it look like an accident."

Tecna choked a little, I nearly started crying all over again. It sounded so much like the old Layla, the strong and fearless and ready to take on the world Layla, and I wished more than anything that she would stand up right now.

But that was a lifetime ago.

Roxy and Layla exchanged matching evil grins at the thought of all the Trix's crushed toes, and I couldn't say that I pitied them one bit. They deserved it, especially after what they had said about Mama. Although Layla and Roxy's cackling was getting a little unnerving…

Layla paused, and glanced about, frowning.

"Where's Musa?" she asked, shifting a little in her seat, "Is she late or something?"

In an instant, Tecna's face dropped. I watched Layla's eyes widen a bit, before narrowing, as she put the pieces together. Her face clouded over.

"She's…she's not coming, is she?" Layla whispered, and my eyes stung at how pleading she sounded. I wanted to speak, but the words dried in my throat at the sight of her face. For the first time, I realized how much Layla needed us.

She had Nabu, she had riches and beauty and she used to be the best dancer I had ever seen, but she needed us. The wheelchair seemed to swallow her, and I saw, clearly, just how much the accident had affected her.

"We're going to be late," Tecna murmured. The sky above, gray and looming, painted a thousand possibilities on our skin. It was a long while before any of us moved.

* * *

I leaned my head against the cool metal of my locker. What was the point of it all if I was happy? If Riven were happy? The others weren't. A giant hole had been ripped out of us by Musa's leaving. Layla might never regain the use of her legs. Tecna and Roxy were fading away, little by little. What did my love life matter? What did my face matter?

They were just scars. What were scars to Layla's useless legs?

_You're so __**selfish**__. Whining on and on about how __**ugly**__ you are, when the truth is, the __**ugly **__thing about you is that you're vain, shallow and completely_ **self-centered.**_**  
**_

My subconscious' words were cruel, but they had never sounded truer. When the bandages had been removed, all I'd thought about was my own suffering. Even when I'd returned to school, it had been the only thing on my mind. What the others were going through had barely even occurred to me. I had brought down the walls, but that had just turned me into the person that I'd used to be.

What was Flora, anymore?

_So? What are you going to do about all your miserable little friends? _

I straightened. If this was the time for redemption, then I would do it. I was going to drag them out of the hole that swallowed them after the accident. Maybe I couldn't make Layla walk again, but I maybe, just maybe, I could bring us all back together.

It was time I did something for these girls.

* * *

"Musa?" The Asian girl's brow furrowed, but she continued scribbling in her notebook. I tried again. "Musa?" Her pen stabbed the paper a little harder than expected. I gulped. "Musa?"

"What?" she demanded, scowling at me. Several others looked up, and the teacher turned, staring at us. My face went hot, but I persisted, looking Musa square in the eye. Or at least as square as I could get without chickening out. She didn't look much better than the rest of us. Even her usually shocking clothes were muted.

And then there was the distance that had grown between us.

"I…I…wanted to talk to you," I said. Her eyes dropped to her paper.

"Well I don't want to talk to you."

* * *

When class ended, Musa shot out the door. Quickly, I scooped up my books and raced after her. She was moving fast, but I was a coward, and running away came a little bit too easy for me. But for once, I wasn't running from something, but towards something.

"Musa! Musa, wait!" I called, as she darted into an empty corridor. I chased after her. Growling, she turned on her heel and marched towards me.

"What do you want, Flora?" she snapped. I trembled. _No. _I wasn't going to curl away out of fear anymore. I had to do this, for the girls, and for Musa.

"Musa, why are you avoiding us?" I asked.

Her jaw tightened. "It's none of your business."

_Think you're some kind of hero? Leave the girl alone._

No. I can't do that to Tecna or Roxy or Layla.

_And what could __**you **__possibly do to convince her? _

I'm going to try, because that's more than **you've** ever done.

"I…I think it is our business, Musa. You can't leave us. Everyone misses you." She clenched her fist, and I was almost a little bit afraid of what she would do to me. Musa seemed the type who would be able to throw a pretty strong punch. Then again, maybe I deserved it. "Layla misses you," I added. It was a low blow, but maybe it would work. What did I have left to lose?

Her jaw tightened. "Leave me alone, Flora," she stated, but there was no bite to it.

"Why?" I asked, tilting my head. "Aren't we your friends?"

Musa's face crumpled. Without a word, she sank to the ground, shaking like a leaf. I knelt down next to her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged me off, trying to glare. I flinched a little, though all I saw on her face was grief.

"Musa…Please, tell me what's wrong," I said timidly. She shook her head, a little desperately, but I could see that I was getting to her. Though she put up a tough front, Musa cared a lot about all of us. "Musa, please. We're all here for you."

The Asian girl exhaled, and leant against the lockers. I followed suit. For a while, she was quiet. At last, she spoke.

"My dad…he…he banned me from music, permanently. He thinks that that I nearly died because of music! Somehow, he figured out that I hadn't thrown away all of my instruments and he…he…it was horrible, Flora," she said, wrapping her arms around herself, "He was yelling and…and…It was just like when Mom died. He smashed them to bits and threw them away."

She buried her face in her hands and cried. I had never felt so sorry for Musa, not even when we'd met the first time. Now, I wasn't just a stranger trying to understand. I had been her friend, once, not that long ago, and I knew what I was doing. Maybe the accident had split our world into two lifetimes, but I had to try. Carefully, I hugged her as she sobbed.

"And…," she started, "And then he said that…that I couldn't hang out with you guys anymore! He said that you all were bad influences and…and that you all would…ruin my life!"

"What did you say to him?" I asked. She raised her head, face wet with tears.

"I…I was so angry, Flora. And I…oh god, the things I _said_. I couldn't stop myself and…and now he's threatening to take me out of this school," she said. My mouth fell open, partly in horror, partly in anger. How could her father have to come to such a conclusion? "What do I do Flora?" Musa murmured, "What do I _do_?"

I was speechless. Mama and I rarely ever argued, for the simple fact that I was always trying hard to keep Mama happy. Our family couldn't afford to splinter apart. I looked at Musa's stricken face, and the way she seemed so drawn into herself. For a moment, it was like a mirror-image.

And I could never allow Musa to become that washed out person that I'd once been.

"You have to tell him, Musa," I said, turning her to face me, "You have to talk to him and explain that this is what you love."

"What's the point? He'll never listen," she responded, pushing herself to her feet.

"But if you don't try, you won't know." Musa frowned, but there was a spark of the old fiery girl I used to know. It was weak, but it wasn't dead.

"I…I'll try."

That was enough for me.

* * *

I resolved not to tell the girls yet about Musa. False hopes were cruel things, and everyone was already drowning in depression. If Musa failed to get through to her father, it would break us all.

I wished that I could blame the truck driver for everything that had happened. I wished I could blame _anyone_ for the accident. Maybe faulting someone for it would finally lift the guilt that threatened to strangle every one of us. But it had happened, and no amount of guilt would ever change that. Blaming the dead was of no use.

So, instead, I held my head a little higher – which wasn't that much higher, but it was a start – and walked through the corridors. For the most part, I was started to fade away from people's attention. Sure, when they saw me up close, some of them jerked a little, and some still sneered as I walked past, but many just simply ignored me.

It was hurtful, but it was better this way. If there was a choice between being put on display and fading into the wall, then I would take the second option. I had my friends, and everyone else could go ahead on their quest to 'Please Ignore Flora Montoya'.

I had my friends. We were broken and bitter and tied down by grief and pain, but we were friends. And maybe, one day, far off yet, maybe, just maybe, it would turn out okay.

It would be enough.

* * *

**Ew. Ew. Ew. _Ew. _I don't know if I'm capable of writing for this fandom anymore. I've heard that Nick is calling Layla Aisha now, but since I've been calling her Layla for 15 chapters, I'm going to keep it that way. Besides, I'm more used to Layla, and my dad cancelled Nick a long time ago, so I've never seen the Nick dub. Is it any good?**

**Anyways...I'm going to try to keep writing this story. ****It's probably going to be ending soon, possibly in about 3 to 4 more chapters. **I've been rewatching Winx Club to try and get back into the mood - I've reached Season 2, and I'm currently gagging at Flora/Helia, no offense to those who like that. And I'm too much of a chicken to post the update on Winx Writers Anonymous, because I'm convinced that this monstrosity does not belong there. Please, please, please review. 


	17. And Then Musa Walked On

_Disclaimer: I do not own Winx Club. I only claim to own this story.  
_

_I'm back! Sorry for the gap between chapters, I was studying for final years. Anyways, my exams are all over, so I have plenty of time now to upload chapters. Thank you to the overwhelming response I got for the last chapter, I had no idea that people still read this story. It really means a lot to me._

_I'm a little out of the Winx Club loop, I heard there's a Season 5 coming, or something? I heard that it had 3D animation though, which is a big no-no for me, I love 2D too much. Plus, I don't like the Nickelodeon Dub, so, we'll see what happens. Is Season 5 any good? Anyways, this story's wrapping around to a close soon, and this chapter is far more Musa-centric. I've been experimenting a bit with my style so...I hope it's satisfactory, at least. I've been fiddling around with the chapter titles too...We'll see how they end up. Please enjoy. _

* * *

_Hey dad, I wanted to –_

Too blunt.

_Daddy, you know, about those –_

Too casual.

_Dad, could you please –_

Too much like begging.

_Dad, could you just –_

Too angry.

_Hey dad…you know, sometimes…I really hate you, you know that?_

* * *

(Musa P.O.V.)

Slamming the front door a little harder than intended, I leant against its wooden surface, letting my bag slip off my shoulders and hit the floor with a thud. It'd been two days since Flora's little motivational speech, and nearly a week since Dad and I had exchanged more than a few words after our huge blow-up.

The days were draining me of all my energy. Avoiding everyone took too much work, and searching for even more secluded areas to practice was just plain tiresome. I tried to come home as late as possible to avoid any interaction. But it was Dad's quiet, sad, disapproval that stung the most.

I scowled, glaring at our picture perfect house, tastefully decorated and far better looking that how we'd lived when Dad was still a musician. It was nothing more than a movie set, Dad and I only actors, moving through it in our efforts to pretend that our family wasn't falling apart.

It was the silence in it that I hated the most. No music filtered through its hallways, the only sound being Dad and I quietly living out our days, forever making certain that our little sphere of existence never truly touched.

I had run away, once, because of that. Just jumped on a train and gotten off at a station I didn't even know the name of. It'd been perfect. No rules, no excuses, no fights. No Dad. No Dad staring off after me, watching the ghost of his dead wife living through the body of her daughter, the weight of his grief pulling me down.

"I'm not her," I whispered, teeth clenched, because I was not my mother, no matter how much I looked like her and sang like her and was everything like her, and not.

Mom had been dead for years now. Dad had never gotten over it.

He had smashed all the instruments and records and did everything he could to erase Mom from existence, but he could never, ever escape her.

Just like I couldn't escape him. There was nowhere to run to, anymore. Then, without any friends to grasp onto, I'd been as close to free as I could get. Things had changed. But I owed Tecna, and Layla, and Roxy, and Flora, and Mom.

And maybe Dad too, somewhere down the list.

Standing, I made my way towards his study.

* * *

I opened his door without asking for permission, weaving my way around the stacks of papers, and planted my hands on his desk. If we were going to have a discussion, then it was going to be on _my _terms. Frowning, he looked up from his work.

"What is it, Musa?" he asked, looking irritable. I'd caught him at a bad time.

"Dad," I said, "We need to talk."

"If this is about the music, Musa," he said, "You understand my decision is final."

"No," I snapped, "I _don't _understand, and I'm not planning to. For once, just _listen _to me!" I was already beginning to lose my temper. Stubbornness I had gotten from him, and in fights, it meant that neither of us ever really won.

I didn't let him finish. "Dad, I want to play music! This has nothing to do with my friends or boys or Mom or you! I want to play music because_ I_ love music!"

He snorted, looking ever the businessman in his suit and thinning gray hair and mustache. "You're being influenced by those friends of yours. Teenage rebellion," he said, stabbing his pen in my direction.

I gaped at him, hands clenched tight into fists. "What do my friends have to do with any of this?"

He waved a hand dismissively. "They're rebellious, irresponsible girls with no sense of planning for the future. Not to mention that _boy _you used to date, with all his arrogance and disrespect!" he thundered, slapping the table for emphasis.

My hands were shaking by now, and I resisted the urge to topple over all his papers and files.

"You're just making excuses! You just don't want to admit that you're afraid of letting me be a singer because then I'll end up just like Mom!" I yelled, anger taking hold.

His eyes narrowed. I froze, realizing that I had crossed the invisible line that we had set years back. Never talk about Mom and music, never talk about Mom and Dad, and never, _ever, _talk about Mom dying.

Dad couldn't take talking about Mom.

"You've gone too far Musa," he murmured, "I didn't fully intend to take you out of Alfea. But I don't have any choice now."

"Dad, please, don't'! That's not going to change anything!" I retorted, desperate. I couldn't let him take me out. He ignored me, picking up his phone, dialing the number for the school. With one hand, he gestured for me to leave.

"Dad…" I whispered, trying to touch the old him, the one who had lifted me in the air and laughed and declared that I had a wonderful voice, "Music was your life. What can't you understand what I want to do?"

"This is your life we're talking about," he said sharply, looking me in the eye, "Do you really think that a musical career will be able to support you? What will happen when you're old and can't dance anymore? What happens if you fall _ill_?"

Mom had died because we hadn't had enough money to pay the bills. And even if I wasn't her, even if I wasn't ill, Dad could never let go of the one woman who still haunted him, through me.

Suddenly, I just wanted to break down crying, because she haunted me too, in the pictures on the walls and the in the music and…

And in the ghostly feel of arms around me, soft and warm. Warmth that for years I had lacked, and thirsted for despite knowing full well that she was never, ever coming back. Dad missed her more than anything.

"Dad, this is my _dream_! All that happened was one accident that had _nothing _to do with music," I said, my voice catching, because I knew that he was just so afraid of losing the last bit of family he had left.

It was just the two of us, had been the two of us for years and years as he struggled to pay off debts and get me into a good school and find a job that really could put food on the table. All while I yelled at him and told him that he didn't understand _anything_.

And suddenly, Dad looked nothing more than a frail old man, shrunken inside a faded suit, hidden beneath of the piles of endless paperwork. The silence filled the gaps between us, the huge space that filled up with everything that we didn't say.

"Dad," I whispered, "I'm still going to be a singer. I have a gig two days from now, at the Frutti Music Bar. I want you…to be there."

I turned and stepped out of the room, chest heaving with dry sobs, leaving behind a tired old man surrounded by furniture and paperwork he didn't want, and the silent presence of the ghost of his dead wife.

* * *

_I ran away once._

Feet slamming against the sidewalk, I started running down the dark streets, eyes blurred with tears, because I didn't think I could spend another minute inside the house with all the guilt and grief and quiet.

_Just jumped on a train and got off at a station I didn't even know the name of. _

I turned a corner, heading straight towards the only place I knew that had the one person who understood, better than anyone.

_I sat down on a bench inside, because I didn't know what else to do. _

I pushed the bell furiously, doubled over as I gasped for air, wishing that I had at least left Dad a note, left something, so that he didn't think that I was gone all over again.

_There was a boy sitting next to me, with bright purple hair and a scowl. _

Inside, someone turned on the lights and I tried to think of what to say, that didn't start with 'sorry' and end with 'help me'.

_He looked at me, feet resting on his own duffel bag._

The door opened, and Layla stared at me in shock, as I took in her wheelchair, her exhaustion, and suddenly I was sobbing for so much more than just Mom and Dad, while Layla clumsily reached up to try and comfort me.

"_Did you," he asked, "Run away too?" _

I buried my face in Layla's chest and cried. She knew.

* * *

(Flora P.O.V.)

Musa came back to us three days after I talked to her, with her eyes red and her hair wild and the look of complete and utter sadness and determination all over her face. She walked beside Layla, the two of them supporting each other in more ways than one.

"Guys, I," she started.

She didn't need to say anything. Roxy threw herself at her, dragging Tecna along with her, as I tried to hug her until we were just a clumsy mess of limbs and tears and laughter.

But mostly laughter.

And even though there were a million things I wanted – needed – to ask, I kept my mouth shut. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter. Because Musa was back, and there was something different about, something that said that she had finally, _finally_, made her choice about her music and her father.

"You guys," she whispered, voice breaking, "_You guys_…"

We were whole.

* * *

The story came in bits and pieces. Musa's voice rose and fell, sometimes becoming so soft that we all had to strain to make out what she was saying. But we got the gist of it, and for a while, the five of us just held on to each together, linked together through grief and trouble and understanding.

The accident felt like a lifetime ago.

"Do you really think your dad will take you out of Alfea?" Roxy asked, running her fingers through her hair, nearly back to its original blond shade. Musa shrugged, bringing her knees to her chest.

"I don't know," she said, "I really don't know." She had never looked so small there.

But if she didn't know, there was a chance, a tiny chance, that maybe he wouldn't go through with it. And we clung to that hope, that hope that the we could all stay together and finally, finally work our way out of this huge mess.

"Well," Layla said, her voice anchoring us all down, "The best thing you can do is to get ready for your gig and give it your all."

Musa looked up at her, dark eyes bright with mischief. "My all? Layla, I'm going to blow them out of the water."

And then it was just like old times, with Roxy and Layla and Musa ribbing each other, Tecna giving a long suffering sigh, and me, giggling at their antics.

"Careful you don't give my poor dad a heart attack," Roxy warned playfully, and Musa snickered.

"You'll be playing with Andy and his band, right?" Tecna asked, trying to maintain some sense of order. Musa nodded. The name was unfamiliar to me.

"Who's that?" I questioned, poking Musa in the side.

"Andy's Bloom's ex-boyfriend. He's a nice guy – if a little blind to his ex-girlfriend's..._wonderful personality traits. _He and two of his friends have a band and we play together," she explained, "And _no_, we are _not _dating, so wipe those stupid smirks off your faces!"

All of us immediately molded our faces into pictures of complete innocence. Musa glared, throwing her hands up into the air in exasperation.

"You guys are as bad as Riven, always thinking that I'm going out with _every single guy I talk to_," she grumbled.

"We're sorry," Layla said, sounding completely insincere, "But your reaction makes it so easy." Musa scowled, folding her arms.

Laughing, Roxy tried to force Musa's lips upwards, which led to Musa trying to swat her hands away, which eventually devolved into Musa, Layla and Roxy play-wrestling and teasing one another. Tecna groaned, trying to force the three apart.

I smiled.

Maybe, with Musa here with us, we could finally make our way out of the hole, towards the sun.

* * *

I walked side-by-side next to Musa down the hallway, as she happily chattered on about all the songs that she was planning to perform at her upcoming gig. I'd only ever seen Musa sing once, but I knew that it would probably be even better this time.

She was one of the best singers I'd ever heard.

"We're going to have a test run later tonight," she said, "Since this is the first time that I've performed in front of crowd."

"Could I go watch?" I asked, "The test run, I mean. If it's all right." I suspected that Musa was secretly a little nervous, and I wanted to give her plenty of support. She deserved every bit of it.

"Really?" Musa gasped, "That'd be great! You can even help us with carrying some of the instruments. Klaus isn't that great at handling them."

"I'd love to," I replied, "I can even rope Riven in if you need extra muscle." Musa smirked, an evil look creeping up on her face.

"Sure, another chance to boss that idiot around – don't give me that look Mrs. Riven Freeman," Musa said. I turned beet red, desperately trying to shush her. The walls had ears in this school, and I didn't want word to float all the way back to the Trix. Musa laughed, softly singing '_Flora likes Riven, Flora likes Riven_'.

I huffed, flushing harder. Still, to me, this was a sign that the old Musa was back, the fiery, take-on-the-world Musa. As we stopped to part ways for our next class, Musa grabbed my shoulder, a serious look in her eye. Unexpectedly, she hugged me tight.

"Flora," she whispered, "Thank you." I stiffened, then relaxed, hugging her back.

"I really didn't do anything," I insisted. I didn't want thanks for what I had done. I had done it for the group, and for Musa, not for myself.

"Silly. You've done a lot more than you know."

* * *

(Musa P.O.V.)

I bumped into Riven as I walked out of school. Or, it was more along the lines that I noticed him by his car and something (something from a very long time ago) made me walk towards him.

"Riven!" I called. He didn't seem to hear me, too focused on glaring at a scrape on his 'baby'. I rolled my eyes. Typical Riven. "Hey, Riven!"

He jerked upwards, spinning around to face me as I reached him, bag slung over one shoulder. He arched one eyebrow, slightly surprised that I had willingly decided to start making conversation with him. Our break-up had been…loud. Loud was an understatement.

The things we'd said had made it impossible for us to talk normally with each other.

"What's with all the yelling?" he asked, leaning against his car. I paused. To be honest, I wasn't certain myself. I was staying at Layla's house for the time being, until after the gig, and something about running away had brought back old memories.

Little things that still made me smile, just a bit.

"Nothing, really," I said. He looked at me, confusion evident. A corner of my lip turned up at that, it was amusing to watch. "I just…wanted to know…you remember when we met, at the train station?"

His expression was unreadable as he slowly nodded. Poor boy probably thought I was trying to get back together with him. As though I would still want to. That girl who'd loved him had grown up.

"Never mind," I said simply, "It was nice to see you." Then I turned and walked away.

* * *

"_Did you," he asked, "Run away too?" _

To a fifteen-year-old girl, scared and without a clue of what to do next, he'd been the closest thing to a friend. A very blunt and rude friend, but stable, at least, enough that I didn't have to feel alone in a big city.

I remembered standing in that near empty train late into the night, with nothing but a few belongings stuffed into a faded backpack. I'd curled up into a seat, watching the city flash by, its bright lights shining. Home.

I'd avoided people's eyes, trying not to look like a runaway. I'd regretted wearing my baggiest jeans and red jacket, looking too much like someone who didn't know where she was going. I'd gotten off at a station, hulking and unfamiliar, and a part of me had wanted to run all the way back and beg for forgiveness.

The two of us had sat there for a long time, swapping bits of food we had amongst ourselves. Neither of us asked why we had run away. It was no one's business but our own. Somewhere, between the clanging of the trains and the emptiness of the train station, I fell in love.

_So cliché. _

The stupid kind of storybook romance where I was head over heels in love with a guy I barely knew. He'd been brutally honest, and I'd appreciated that. I didn't want anything sugarcoated and wrapped up in pretty lies because they thought it was too much for me to swallow.

I already had too much of that from Dad.

We'd started dating, and for a bit, just a bit, everything had worked together perfectly. I'd had a boyfriend who loved me and cared about me and defended me and was there for me. Then it collapsed upon itself. We fought all the time, and Riven constantly believed that I was cheating on him. Both hot-tempered and disinclined to talk things over, we had ended up at each other's throats.

It fell apart because in the end, that lack of trust, that had started way back when in that train station, had come back to bite us.

I knew why I had talked to Riven. I had talked to Riven, not to get back together with him (not now, not ever) but because it was time we stopped avoiding each other and made a little peace with one another.

I didn't want a boyfriend, just a guy who asked me, in his own simple way, if I needed a friend too.

* * *

(Flora P.O.V.)

"Stop grumbling Riven, and help move those speakers!" Musa snapped, pointing one finger accusingly at the equipment. Riven grunted, muttering several choice words about bossy women, as Musa yelled that she could hear him _just fine_, thank you very much.

I smiled in amusement as I plugged in some of the equipment. True to my word, I had roped Riven into helping out, using a little bit of guilt tripping and a lot of begging. He'd agreed, if a bit reluctantly. I supposed it was awkward for him to help out Musa now that they were no longer dating.

Musa, on the other hand, seemed to relish being able to yell at him. Or maybe she really was angry with him. It was hard to tell.

"Aren't you jealous?" a voice said from behind me. I turned to see Andy, spiky black hair and all. Musa's judgment had been right, he was a nice person, patiently explaining to me how to help plug in everyone and not wincing once when I clumsily lifted the instruments. He had looked at me straight in the face, not even asking about my scars. How had a nice guy like him ended up with Bloom?

I registered his words. "Jealous? Of what?"

"Those two. They used to date," he explained. I shrugged. A little part of me hurt as I watched them, but this was Musa's happiness. I had no right to interfere. They must have been friends before they had dated, and I let them be. Even if something pierced my heart a little deeper, looking at them.

"We're not together," I said, "We're friends."

Andy kept watching me, still a little confused. I wondered why he would ask such a question. Perhaps he'd heard some of the gossip. I finished my work, brushing my hands down on my long skirt. I smiled up at him.

"Anything about us together is a rumor. It's a well-known fact that Riven and I don't love each other."

* * *

The band was currently testing the lighting system, with Musa, Andy, and the other two members – Mark and Rio – discussing (or arguing) over how it should look. Without much to do, Riven had gravitated over to one of the tables, headphones on, a clear sign that he didn't want anyone to bother him. I sat down beside him, arranging my skirt, listening to Riven hum quietly.

"Can you hear me?" I asked softly, not wanting to disturb him, but needing a little company. He ignored me, eyes distant. Was he thinking? "What are you humming?" Again, no reply. He scratched his neck, still seemingly unaware of my presence.

I frowned a little. Andy's word dug into my skin.

"Do you still like Musa?" I whispered, watching his impassive face, blue eyes looking at something I couldn't see. Somehow, I couldn't stop myself. It felt nice to say my fears out loud, knowing that no one could hear them. At least, that way, I didn't feel them choking me, desperate to be heard.

"If…" I murmured, "you two hadn't fought so bad, then, you would still be with her. Since she's the one you really like." I looked at him again. "If that's the case, you'd probably have a happier look on your face than you do right now."

They were stupid, idiotic things to say. Riven was my friend, despite our squabbles and misunderstandings. He'd supported me, been kind to me in his own way. He was a good friend to me, and I was pretty certain that I wasn't some kind of annoyance or baggage.

But he didn't love me.

"I don't want to feel like the problem, but when I think about how you two could be together," I said, the horrible, terrible, damning truths spilling from my mouth, "I feel even worse."

Riven had stopped humming, but he was still immersed in his music, unable to hear what I was saying about him and Musa. I felt so guilty, for all that I was saying, but it was a relief to get it off my chest. With every word I spoke, I felt a little freer. I sighed, smiling a little, heart breaking. "Aren't I…weird?" I murmured.

He suddenly jerked forward, taking me by surprise as he removed his headphones. "Where are you going?" I asked. He barely looked at me.

"Bathroom."

As he walked off, nodding at Klaus, Roxy's father, I looked at his headphones. They were connected to an old Walkman, the kind that still needed CDs. Strange, how Riven drove a fancy car and bike and was probably filthy rich but still used such old technology. I smiled, picking it up.

What music had he been listening to? I opened it.

"_Wha_?" I gasped, nearly dropping the thing. There was no CD inside. My heart thumped faster, as my mind connected the dots, reaching the terrifying conclusion.

_Then, Riven…He heard the whole thing! _

I rose to my feet, shock turning my face pale. I stared at the headphones in my hand, trying desperately to tell if he really had heard me. _Maybe he didn't hear me…He was wearing headphones, and I wasn't talking very loudly…But if he did hear me…It's over for me! _

I dropped the headphones on the table, rushing to get my bag. I needed to get out of here before he got back. Better to be safe than sorry. By tomorrow, he would probably have forgotten. Yes, definitely. I just needed to get away and everything would be fine.

Fate decided to be cruel. I crashed into Riven.

"Going somewhere?" he asked. Face pale and sweaty, I stuttered out an excuse, not looking him in the eye.

"I-I-I just remembered…. I ne-need to go pick up my-my sister," I fibbed. He frowned at me. I tried to smile, knowing that I probably looked like a nervous wreck. He smirked.

My heart stopped. _He knows! Why else would he be laughing? _

"I'll be g-going," I stammered, pushing past him. I needed to get out of here and find a very large hole to jump into. Preferably one that was so far away, Riven could never find it. He caught my wrist. I froze, face heating up, desperate to wriggle out of his grasp.

"I'll give you a lift there," he offered. I shook my head frantically. Bad idea, _very _bad idea.

"That-that's really nice, but-but you r-really don't h-have to!" I cried, wrenching my wrist away. I shot past him, pausing in front of Musa, babbling out my obvious lie. She frowned, but let me go.

"Just remember Flora, be here tomorrow at eight!" She grinned. "No matter what my dad says, the show will go on!"

* * *

**Urk. Still not sure if I liked how I wrote this one. Better than the last, I hope. **

**I quite like Andy's character - I like him a lot better than Sky, honestly. Though I don't think Bloom deserves Andy one bit - sorry Bloom fans, you may have noticed, I don't really like Bloom that much, I apologize. Also, while I don't like the Riven/Musa relationship, because this chapter (and the coming one) deal heavily with Musa, I definitely needed to address it. I don't enjoy them as lovers, but for the purpose of this story, and perhaps, other stories, I think they would have a fine dynamic as friends. **

**I hope I wrote Musa and her father well.**

**The next chapter will sum up this little Musa-centric arc, and will explain whether or not Riven heard Flora. Because of course I can't tell you if he did or didn't, I'm an evil writer. Please review, it really motivates me. **


	18. Musical Interlude - Heavy Heart To Carry

_Disclaimer: I do not own Winx Club. _

_It's been another year, hasn't it. I'm so so so so so sorry for that. I've been consumed by schoolwork...and I sort of loss the nerve to write this, especially after reading the earlier chapters. The way I wrote three years ago, even the way I wrote last year, is so completely different from how I write now. Still, I feel like I owe it to everyone who is still reading this to finish this story. So, I wrote this long chapter as a peace offering. I'd really like to thank the people who made an effort to review the last chapter. It really gave me a confidence boost to write this chapter. I can understand how the earlier chapters would turn someone away - did I even understand the idea of character development? Sigh. Well, anyways, I can at least promise that I will end this story as best as I possibly can. And I will finish it. I hope this chapter is satisfactory at least. This chapter will tie up the Musa-arc, and hopefully lead us towards the final developments in the story. And maybe finally give us the Flora/Riven moments you all are (hopefully) waiting for. Maybe:)_

_So please enjoy this very dialogue-heavy chapter, which really should be retitled, "Where everyone finally gets their character development". _

* * *

I spent the entire night going back and forth in my head, trying to determine whether or not Riven had heard me. What had I been thinking, saying those things? I had probably ruined everything we had painstaking built between us. That is, if he _had _heard me.

_Oh he definitely heard you. _

But I was talking quietly, and he had a lot on his mind!

_He __**smirked**__. He __**heard**__. _

But…but even if he _did _hear me, I didn't…exactly say 'I like you'. I just said…that seeing him in love…with another girl…made me feel unhappy.

…_That's the same thing, stupido! _

No it isn't! Is it?

…_You really do like him, don't you?_

Yes.

_Then…do you remember the question you asked? _

Question? You mean… 'Do you still like Musa?'

_Yes. So, what I think you should really wonder is – what kind of answer are you expecting?_

* * *

"Wear this!" Mama, grinning from ear to ear, thrust a bundle of pink cloth at me. Gingerly, I unfolded it to find a loose-fitting pale pink top with a ribbon tied under the bust, and a long dark pink skirt with white flower patterns sewn around the hem and a white underskirt. It smelt faintly of mothballs, and I realized with a start that it must have been one of Mama's old outfits, and seemed far too fancy to wear to the Fruity Music Bar. I looked at her, and she gestured that I ought to try it on. Not wanting to upset her, I complied, and she twisted and turned me around, adjusting the material.

"I don't know Mama," I murmured, fingering the ribbon, "Don't you think it's a little…silly? And it's showing so much skin!" Two thin straps held up the top, and that exposed far more of my shoulders and arms than I ever did normally. Telling Mama about Musa's gig had been a mistake. She had immediately seen it as part of her grand scheme to make me wear more flattering clothes, and had set to tearing apart our limited wardrobes' to find something 'appropriate'.

Mama shushed me impatiently, forcing me onto one of the kitchen chairs. Then, with great care, she began to twist and turn the locks of my hair, pining it all up with a variety of flowered hairpins. At last, she faced me and clapped her hands with childish delight.

"_Hermoso_!" she gushed, "Look in the mirror!" Hesitantly, I stood in front of the old wall mirror in our apartment. A sad-faced girl in a frilly pink get-up stared back at me, her hair pulled away from her face to reveal a mess of scarring on her left cheek. Slowly, I raised my hand to cover them. My old face reappeared. Mama slapped my hand away, and reality reasserted itself. Instantly, I felt ugly. "What are you doing? _Look_," she insisted.

Gently, she turned me to face the mirror, lifting my chin up with her finger. "I look horrible. All cracked apart," I murmured, tracing the web of lines. Mama shook her head, placing her hands on my shoulders.

"You are beautiful, _niña tonta_. Ignore those who pity you and mock you for your scars. I don't pity you," she whispered, "Do you know I look up to you? You are so much stronger than I am."

I swallowed a lump in my throat, suddenly overwhelmed by a fierce love for Mama. Despite everything, despite Papa leaving, despite the accident, despite all the problems over the years, her love for Miele and I had never wavered. I wanted to tell her all that, tell her that I was sorry for having been such a bad daughter for so long, only ever thinking of myself and my own problems, never trying to fix things.

I wished I had told earlier that I thought she was wonderful.

Instead, I hugged her tightly, suddenly tired of words. Mama kissed my forehead, then pushed me out the door, telling me not to stay out too late. I laughed, and skipped down to meet Tecna and Timmy, who were giving me a lift.

For the first time since that day, I felt beautiful.

* * *

It was already drawing past eight, and the band still hadn't started playing. Tecna tapped her foot impatiently, checking her watch. The bar was crowded with people. Andy and his band apparently performed at the Fruity Music Bar regularly, and always managed to draw a sizable crowd, but the mention that tonight would have a special guest singer had attracted far more people. Plus, it was a Friday, and I had already spotted people from school milling around.

"Relax Tecna," Layla said, placing a hand on our purple haired friend's forearm, the broken one, "I'm sure they're just running some last minute checks or something." I nodded, and Tecna sighed, clearly disliking the lack of punctuality. Roxy swept by at that moment, balancing several drinks on her trays. She winked, and then disappeared into the crowd. I found myself bouncing on my feet, brimming with excitement. This was Musa's big break, and I wanted this night to end well.

"Is Musa's father here yet?" Timmy asked, checking the time on his phone. Tecna shook her head. I tensed. This was the important factor in Musa's plan. If her father didn't come, then everything we had hoped for would be wasted. Still, maybe he was busy. I pushed any nervous thoughts aside, determined to enjoy myself.

"Hey, Riven! Over here!" Nabu called, waving at a familiar purple head. I blanched. In my worry over Musa's performance and my appearance, I hadn't actually spared a thought that Riven would be here. _Of course he would be. Musa is performing_, I thought sadly. Spinning on my heel, I moved towards the bar counter. I had to avoid Riven at all costs.

"Where are you going?" Tecna asked.

"I'm a little thirsty," I said over my shoulder, slipping around people in my haste to get away. I reached the bar and sank down onto one of the stools, burying my face in my hands. What was I going to do? What was I going to say? What was _he _going to say?

"Here." A bright pink drink was set in front of me. I looked up at the smiling face of Klaus Lewis. "To match your outfit. You look very nice tonight."

Touched and surprised, I thanked him. I picked up the drink, staring absentmindedly at its shocking color and the silly little paper umbrella in it. I knew I couldn't see Riven right now. I also knew that I couldn't lie and pretend that I hadn't meant what I said. Right now, it was best I focused on Musa's performance. After all, I was the one who had pushed her to try and make amends with her father. This had to be my first priority, not my own love troubles. I wouldn't have the right to call myself her friend otherwise.

Decided, I took a sip from my drink. At that moment, I heard the crowd begin to cheer. Turning around, I saw the band picking up their instruments. The nervous energy returned. It was starting.

* * *

(Musa P.O.V.)

_Mom, I'm scared._

I had a dream about this night. Where I ran out on stage and found that I no longer had a voice. I'd screamed into the microphone, desperate and panicked, but there was nothing. The crowd grew still, staring back at me, a frightening statue audience. Worse was the silence. A terrifying, deafening, maddening silence that had filled the room. I couldn't breathe, choking and drowning in a complete and utter lack of sound. Silence was more frightening that noise could ever be.

_Oh Mom, did you feel this way the first time you were on stage? _

And then, through that waxwork crowd, Dad appeared. Slowly, he shook his head. "I expected better from you," he said, and then he was gone. I couldn't afford that silence. It had already permeated into our house, drowning us until I felt like the noise had been bleached right out of us, leaving our faded shells behind. It had been so different when Mom was alive. You would wake up to the sound of the radio playing, loud and jarring, Mom humming and dancing along through the kitchen as she prepared breakfast. The quiet, careful notes of Dad's cello filled every minute of the afternoon. Even our footsteps, the sound of our movement and existence, had felt like music.

Everything was different from then.

I forced myself back to present, to continue warming up, my hands worrying the fabric of my outfit. I kept adjusting my bomber jacket; relieved I had decided to wear it. I couldn't quite remember where I'd gotten it from though, weirdly enough. The sound of Andy and the others performing outside was soothing. We had planned it so that they would get the crowd hyped up at the beginning, then I would make my debut.

But the presence of Mom was stronger here than ever, tugging at me, clinging to me. It was more than just a phantom brush of fingers on my shoulder, or an imagined kiss on the forehead. She was everywhere. In the beat Andy had tapped out on his guitar as he hummed out the music. In the sheet music scattered across the floor like a black and white carpet. In the cool water I had gulped down to ease my nerves. Everywhere. A hundred thousand million molecules of Mom, filling me, comforting me, protecting me.

Maybe that was what death was. Maybe when Mom had died, she became a little part of everything in the world. Well, maybe not everything. Just the parts that mattered to Dad and me. So we would never truly lose her.

Outside, Andy announced me to the world. I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. _Trust your audience, _I thought, _that's what Mom always said. _

I pushed outside the curtain with one hand.

_Mom, if you can hear this, please, be with me now._

* * *

I clutched the mike, and took a good long look at the crowd. I spotted the girls scattered across different parts of the room, waving and giving me thumbs-up. Dad wasn't here yet, but knowing his schedule, it was unlikely he would be here before 9, at the very luckiest. If he even came.

Rio set the tempo, and the boys launched into playing. The familiar music soothed me; Andy had written it a long time ago. We had practiced it over and over but never got to perform it…

There was a long intro meant to show off the lead guitarist, but I was so floored by how ridiculously _good _the guys sounded that I nearly missed my cue. I started, trying to get myself into the music. Something felt off. Like I wasn't putting my all into this, as though fear had reached in too deep and pulled out the parts that made me love to sing. The thought distressed me. _Am I really not cut out for performing? _

The crowd seemed to sense my nerves, and I could feel their energy beginning to drop. Andy shot me a worried look as I finished the chorus. The instrumental part before the second verse started, and he began to improvise, adding notes onto the original composition, and the crowd perked up. Some even cheered and whistled.

_Showoff. _He was good, and he was trying to make up for my obvious fright. It wouldn't have bugged me _that _much, except that judging by the crowd's reaction, it was working.

My cue was coming. I inhaled, determined to improve, except, instead of moving into the second verse, Andy signaled to the others and they _restarted _the instrumental, with Andy improvising a variation of what he had just improvised.

I would have been impressed, if I hadn't been so very, very, very pissed off. All thought of being scared disappeared in that anger. _Don't even think about taking this away from me! _The crowd was eating it up, and Andy had the nerve to wink at me as they finally went into the second verse –

I belted out the notes, feeling every syllable, sharpening every consonant. I heard Andy very slightly begin to play over the vocal melody, and my rage increased.

_Oh, so you think you can drown __**me **__out? _The anger leaked into my singing, hitting every note, filling it with a hard energy and in one move, I jerked the microphone off the stand and started to _really _sing. I grinned, and now I could feel it, that sheer joy of just making music, the electricity that filled your body and the air. Andy very carefully began to back off.

_That's right, I'm the one in charge here, _I thought to myself, grinning wider, and sang my goddamn heart out.

* * *

(Layla P.O.V.)

"I'd forgotten how good she sounded!" Roxy exclaimed, clapping her hands with the beat. They'd finished off the first song with gusto and moved into the second, and the crowd was cheering and dancing.

"She's amazing," I gushed. And she was. Where only minutes ago had been a reluctant, anxious girl, now there was no trace of her. She had settled right into the band, into the music, reveling in the delighted reaction of the crowd. This was the Musa from a long time ago, when everything had been better – confident and happy and completely at ease with herself. Just like how she was supposed to be. Just like we wanted her to be.

Singing along, Roxy grabbed Tecna's hands and pulled her towards the dance floor, Tecna protesting the entire way.

"I told you, I don't dance!" she insisted, but Roxy just shoved her forwards, grinning wickedly.

"Then it's time to learn how to!" she responded. I laughed at the mixture of horror and embarrassment on Tecna's face and grinned at the sight of Timmy joining her in a show of friendship. I saw Flora at the bar, listening intently with a huge smile on her face. I was glad. Glad that everyone was finally remembering what it meant to really _live_.

Yet something felt strange inside me. The more comfortable and happy my friends grew, the more uncomfortable I felt watching them. I leaned my head backwards to look at Nabu, standing behind my wheelchair and tried to smile.

"Something wrong? You look tense," he said, concerned, hand resting on my shoulder. I shook my head, my eyes finding my legs. I imagined myself springing to my feet, body infused with the beat, spinning to take Nabu's hand and lead him to the dance floor. But the moment passed, and the legs were no longer mine. I smiled up at him, suddenly sad.

"It's nothing," I said, "It's just…don't you think, this music, is really the kind that should be danced to?"

* * *

(Musa P.O.V.)

Time passed. We moved through song after song, and I grew more and more confident of myself. With every moment that I passed I thought, _yes. This is where I'm supposed to be. _The reaction of the crowd thrilled me, made me reach even harder to wow them with every new song. I winked at Andy, and he laughed, drawing on my energy to empower his playing. Mark and Rio were even more excited, obviously unused to receiving this kind of adoration.

_Probably going to their heads, the idiots, _I thought with amusement and more than a little fondness. As much as I loved the girls, they would never be a part of this the way Andy, Mark and Rio could. It was these three guys, these three goofy, funny, and enthusiastic guys that had given me the chance to achieve this.

And then Dad walked in. He looked awkward and uncertain, an old Chinese man in an ill-fitting suit surrounded by teenagers and young adults in a bar. My heart pounded in my ears and I nearly flubbed my note. _Get a grip Musa! _I thought. _If you want to prove to him that music is your life, then show him the best damn performance of your lifetime! _

I watched Dad's face change as I sang, from uncertainty to surprise to something that mixed between disapproval and pride. _Just you wait Dad. This is nothing. _I was going to give him more than reason to be proud of me, to touch the musician that still lurked within him, that no suits or paperwork could ever completely hide. I was going to reach inside him and pull out the old Dad. I was going to reinvent him.

Andy and the band announced that they were taking a break, but reassured the crowd that I wasn't heading anywhere. This was the special part, the part specifically meant for Dad. Andy passed me my guitar and squeezed my shoulder.

"Good luck," he whispered. I grabbed his arm, glaring at him.

"I'm going to _kill you _later for earlier," I hissed. He smiled lightly, as though he'd known I was going to do that, then headed off. I turned to face the crowd, adjusting the mike. They waited, eager and expectant. "I'm afraid this song will be slower than the one's earlier. It's my own composition, titled _Under the Sky without the Moon and Stars_."

I strummed out the opening bars, easing myself into the familiar melody, thought, _this one is for you, Mom_, and _sang._

* * *

I felt the crowd begin to sway as I sang the simple melody, composed so many years ago, based off the piece that Dad had written specially for Mom after he had fallen for her. I watched as Dad's mouth fell open, staring at me as though waking from a dream. I sang for myself, for Mom, for my friends, but most importantly, for Dad. I needed him to understand.

_Listen to me, _I thought as I sang, _this is how I feel about Mom's death. How I know you feel. But we need to move on. Starting to live again isn't the same as saying goodbye. Mom wouldn't want to see you live this way. _

The last note trailed off, and the bar was suddenly silent. My heart thudded. The crowd slowly began to cheer and clap. But that wasn't what I was watching. Instead, I watched an old, Chinese man, lift a hand to his eyes to wipe his tears. He was smiling.

I felt Mom whisper in my ear, _"That's my girl."_

* * *

To give us a break, the bar was playing other pre-recorded music. Weaving my way through the crowd, I found Andy, Mark and Rio standing on the side of the bar facing the water. I punched Andy's arm as hard as possible.

"You ass! Did you need to go nuts on those soloes?" I demanded, hands on my hips. Andy raised his hands as though trying to calm a charging animal.

"But it got you to sing, didn't it? I've never seen you sing that good before." I paused, still angry and reluctant to admit he was right. He knew exactly what made me tick. He knew me better than I had thought.

"Fine," I muttered, "But I'm still mad at you!" He laughed, and then, surprisingly, hugged me. I tensed, uncertain of what I was meant to do. Andy had never behaved this way before.

"You were perfect," he murmured. Then he released me and pushed me towards Dad. "Talk to him."

Dad was standing at the shoreline, staring out at the water. I joined him, and we stood there in a companionable silence. Our relationship felt new and scary. We weren't fighting or screaming or trying to blame one another. We both seemed instead to be trying to figure out how to continue on from this point, both afraid of what would happen next. At last, Dad broke the silence.

"You were…" he paused, searching for the words, "You were…your mother would have been so proud. _I _am so proud of you." It came out strained, as though he had never learnt how to tell me that. He looked at me, teary-eyed, and I knew he was blaming himself again.

"You aren't…going to tell me to stop?" I asked, hardly daring to believe. He shook his head.

"No. Maitlin," he choked a little, and I knew this was so hard for him, to finally voice all these things, "Maitlin would never have forgiven me if I did. I've failed you, Musa. I tried so hard to give you the life you deserved that I forgot what you really needed. I wasn't the father I should have been."

I gripped his arm, shaking my head. He needed to stop blaming himself. "No Dad. Both of us…we should have talked about Mom's death. We just kept trying to bury it. We didn't try to really get over it." Dad nodded slowly, turning the thought over in his head. Then he frowned.

"But that playing of yours, you were butchering those notes! First thing tomorrow morning I'm going to teach you how to play that guitar properly!" he insisted.

"Dad!" I groaned, but I was smiling. Because I know that when my dad tries to fix me, he is really trying to fix himself. And maybe, this time he will.

Dad nodded towards the bar. "It's your night," he said softly, and smiled. I squeezed his hand then turned away. And for once, I knew he saw me without the shadow of his beloved wife dogging my footsteps.

It was time that we stopped hating ourselves for Mom's death. Time for Dad to stop blaming himself for not being able to pay the bills. Time for me to stop blaming myself for being an extra mouth to feed and wasting all our savings. Maybe we wouldn't succeed. Maybe Mom's death would always be a shadow in our lives. Maybe there would always be a gulf between us, too wide to ever be fully bridged. Maybe we would never be okay. But we could try.

We would learn to forgive ourselves in tandem.

* * *

As I threaded my way through the crowd, I found myself face to face with a scowling Riven.

"Yes?" I asked, impatient to get back to everyone. He frowned, running his fingers through his hair. He looked intensely uncomfortable. The feeling was mutual. Even though I wanted us to finally clear the air and return to some form of normalcy, especially since he was _this _close to dating one of my closest friends, this really wasn't the time. Too much was going through my head to focus on this. I wondered why he had sought me out.

"You did good," he finally managed, "You always had a hell of a set of pipes."

"Oh. Thanks." We stood in front of each other, not touching, not speaking. The minutes stretched out between us, and I knew what we were both thinking about. Riven spoke first.

"I called you like twenty times that night, you know," he said quietly.

"Really?" I asked.

"You never picked up."

"I broke my phone."

He snorted, and it almost sounded bitter. "You're kidding."

"No, I mean I snapped it in half." I mimed the motion with my hands, remembering how cathartic it had felt. "On purpose."

He seemed to think about it. His shoulders slumped a little. "Oh."

"I'm sorry." I meant it. It was hard for me to apologize. It felt all wrong coming out of my mouth.

He shrugged a little, and then muttered, awkwardly, "Me too."

"Not just about that, about everything," I continued, feeling a little numb. But it seemed right to say it.

He jammed his hands into his pockets. "Me too."

"Do you ever…do you ever…" I trailed off, letting it hang there, in the air between us. All the unsaid things.

"I guess sometimes…I mean, it kinda sucks that…that we didn't…" He scowled, rubbing his neck, unable to voice it aloud.

"Yeah." I wondered what it would have been like to be Riven's girlfriend now. Found that I couldn't place it in any reality where the two of us weren't in a relationship that made us both miserable.

"It wouldn't have worked out though, would it?" he asked, looking directly at me.

I shook my head. "Maybe we just didn't really go together at all. Maybe that was why," I muttered, a rambling train of thought that had plagued me the first few weeks after, "Maybe I was too sensitive. Maybe we didn't trust each other enough. I don't know."

"Maybe we were both the problem," Riven said. It was most insightful thing I'd ever heard him say.

"Maybe we were," I whispered.

It felt good to get this out. It felt good to talk to him, actually. But it also felt incredibly sad. Riven nodded slowly, as though he had known this for a long time, and that it was time to finish this.

"See you around then," he said, "Musa."

So this was closure. I found it didn't hurt. It was time to start forgiving ourselves for this as well. I smiled. "Goodbye Riven."

I walked away, suddenly so much lighter. Neither of us looked back. There was nothing left for us there.

* * *

(Flora P.O.V.)

I stared at my drink, trying not to look at both of them talking. I had been so happy that everything had gone well for Musa. I had seen her smiling after talking with her dad, and I knew that it had gone well. She deserved this. All of it. _Even Riven_, I thought. She deserved happiness more than I did.

_Don't be such a martyr. _

Just…leave me alone, please. I don't want to hear you right now.

At least things were looking up in our little group. We would stay together. We could finally start to leave behind the things that had broken us. My eyes flicked towards the couple, and my heart ached. _Maybe not everything_.

"Flora? Is that you?" a soft voice interrupted my thoughts. I jumped, turning around to see a familiar face.

"Helia?" I asked, confused. We hadn't spoken in, I quickly calculated, more than four months. How strange that we had bumped into each other. I searched my heart for any residing anger or infatuation, and felt none. I had almost forgotten about him, truthfully. Those days felt a thousand years ago.

His eyes moved from my scars to the rest of my face. He smiled sadly. "You're still as beautiful as ever."

I nodded. The words were kind…but they no longer moved heat to rise in my cheeks or my heart to beat faster. Helia was just Helia, just a person. Not someone I wanted to vilify or place on a pedestal. Just another person. Like me.

"What were you looking at?" he asked, glancing over my shoulder, spotting Musa and Riven, "I see." He took a long look at me, as though coming to some sort of conclusion. "Does…seeing that upset you?" It was a surprisingly personal thing to ask, especially since we weren't the least bit close to each other. I shrugged.

"It's not so much that they're talking…so much as that they speak so closely about things I'll never know," I murmured softly, fingering the ribbon on my dress. It felt good to say that. Maybe this was why people confessed their problems to total strangers. A stranger would have no expectations on what they ought to be.

Helia nodded slowly. I sighed, leaning against the wall. I felt something unravel, and heard one of my hairpins fall to the ground. I bent down to pick it up, still lost in thought. "I guess…I really like Riven," I murmured, almost to myself, slowing straightening up. "I don't even know how it started. It just came naturally."

"Love is like that. You shouldn't feel so concerned about it. At least, that is what I've read in poems," Helia responded, shrugging a little, as though he didn't know for certain. I wondered if Helia had ever been in love. Maybe he hadn't. _How sad. _

"It wasn't all that special," I found myself saying, flushing deeply, "It just…happened. He…was nice to me. He didn't expect anything from me. He trusted me." I looked up at Helia, suddenly conscious of his presence. What had possessed me to say all of that? "I'm sorry. For burdening you with this."

He ran his fingers through his hair, smiling faintly. "It's alright. I suppose must be quite easy to talk to, if you were able to tell me all that."

"Yes, you're much more easygoing than Riven," I said, laughing a little, "But thank you. For listening."

He nodded, looking at his feet, and we stood there in silence for a while, simply enjoying the company. The Helia I saw now jarred with what I had been told. I wondered which was really the truth. Both? Or neither?

"Flora," Helia began, and I faced him, "Why did you avoid me after I helped you? I kept wondering if I might have said something wrong." I bit my lip, not wanting to admit what I had been told by Tecna. It was far too insulting.

"It's…it's complicated. You…used to date Tecna, after all," I said carefully, feeling more than a little bit uneasy now. Helia looked at his drink, and he seemed far smaller and less sure of himself now than he had been those months ago.

"I understand that. I know…that Tecna has reasons… to dislike me. But I also want to say that… despite what people say, I never cheated on her. I never flirted with other girls," he said solemnly, watching me out of the corner of his eye. Looking at him now, I believed him. The fact that he had listened and said nothing about the fact that my love for Riven was likely unrequited proved that perhaps there was something better in him I hadn't known.

"I believe you."

"People…always think that kindness is the same as flirting. Girls always assumed that I was trying to come on to them… whenever I talked to them." Helia seemed embarrassed, and I felt sorry for him. I felt bad as well. I had believed too, foolishly, that his kindness had been more than that. I should have realized that he hadn't seen anything romantic in me after seeing him treat everyone in the same way. Instead I had judged him for it, and thought of him as just another womanizer.

"Well…I think it doesn't matter what others think of you. As long, as there are friends who know the difference between the rumors and the truth," I said, meant it. Truly meant it.

"Could I confide in you something?" Helia asked, looking uncomfortable. I saw that it was as difficult for him to talk with others as it was for me. I nodded. "There…there is…someone I like. But she…she doesn't know I exist." I smiled. What a romantic. Fitting though. He did like romantic poetry.

"Then…maybe you should try to befriend her? I think, if she knew you as a person, then maybe she…well, maybe she might start to like you as well." How ridiculous that I was the one giving romantic advice. I could barely handle my own love life, much less somebody else's. Still, that was what I had done with Riven. The difference was that it hadn't worked for me.

Helia eyed me. "If anything, I would say it worked very well for you." I choked on my drink, flushing wildly. He laughed good-naturedly. "But I am serious. I think Riven just needs to figure it out on his own. And it looks like he's walking over here now."

I glanced up, horrified to see that Helia was right. Riven was making his way through the crowd, scowling fiercely.

"That seems to be my cue. Good luck Flora. It will work out," he said, and made to leave.

"Good luck. I think…if she got to know you, then I'm sure she'll realize that you're a good person," I said. He blinked, surprised. Then he smiled, gave a little wave, and was gone.

I watched him go, and wondered how many other people there were out there with secrets. With problems they were trying to hide. With things they were doing that people didn't realize. Suddenly I wished that everyone around me wore a sign with their secrets and hopes and dreams written on them. So that people could finally understand each other.

My idea grew. Helia's would say, _I am not as bad a person as the world thinks I am_. Musa's would say, _I am learning to live with my Father again. _Riven's would read, _I am trying to become a better person. _

The thought warmed me. Then what would mine say? Earlier, I would have written _I hate myself for no good reason_. It no longer seemed to fit. Now, I would write, _I don't hate myself anymore. _Yes, that fit. It was a silly, optimistic idea, but I didn't mind.

I looked up, smiling, and Riven was right in front of me, all purple hair and blue-blue eyes and scowl. "Hey," he said.

* * *

"R-riven," I stammered, heart pounding rapidly. "H-how are y-you?" _Oh, why didn't I run away? What am I going to do? _He jerked his head in Helia's direction.

"What was _that guy _doing over here?" he asked, tension in his jaw. I blinked, confused. Why was Riven so upset? And why wasn't he asking me about what I'd said? Had he really forgotten?

_I always knew that guy was as dense as a rock._

Now is not the time!

"We were just talking," I replied, feeling an urge to defend Helia, "He's not as bad as I thought he was." Riven grunted, obviously still irritated. _He must really not like Helia, which is a shame. I wonder why though. _

"The music was good," I said, trying to make conversation, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease up since Riven hadn't even mentioned _that_, "Don't you think?"

"Yeah. Made me think of a lot of things." He leant against the wall, looking incredibly relaxed in his beat-up leather jacket and jeans. We made an odd sight, one of us looking like he'd rolled out of bed and worn whatever was on the floor, the other in a frilly outfit that had clearly been picked specially for the event. The corner of my lip turned up.

"Oh? Thinking about what?" I paled, backpedaling, not wanting to offend, "That is, if it's alright for me to ask. It's up to you if you want to tell me. You don't need to - "

"Flora." Riven interrupted my rambling with one look, "It's fine. It…made me think about me and Musa." He looked away, clearly embarrassed.

My heart stopped. _Of course he would think that. You saw this coming a long time ago. _I looked down at my drink, forcing myself to appear normal. I couldn't allow Riven to see how much this was hurting me. I wanted him to be happy, and support his happiness. No matter how much it pained me.

"You asked me something," he continued. Slowly, I lifted my head to look at him, heart thudding rapidly. He was looking at me, gaze penetrating. _This must be what a hunted animal feels like when it comes face-to-face with a predator._ "And now I think I know the answer. Do you want to hear it?"

_No, of course I don't. I already know the answer. Give me a little hope at least! _I swallowed nervously, desperately wanting to block out all sound. I couldn't bear to know. I didn't want to know that Riven and I would never be anything more than friends. I wanted to feel like I at least had a chance, however slight. I wanted Helia to be right about Riven and I.

"So...my answer is…"

It felt like the seconds were stretching out into years. Everything blurred out to just the sound of Riven's voice.

"Regarding Musa…"

My fingers tightened around my drink. _No, no, no stopstopstop_

"I…"

"_Stop!_" I shrieked, flinging my arms upward, forgetting the glass in my hands. Horrified, I watched the bright pink liquid shoot out of the glass and come splashing down…on Riven. He looked down at his sopping wet jacket, his hair dripping, face caught between surprise and anger. Everyone within hearing distance turned and stared at us.

"What the hell?" he asked.

_Oh no._

* * *

"You are really lucky my dad agreed to let Riven use the employee bathroom," Roxy said, coming up to stand next to me. I groaned, hiding my face with my hands. Thank the heavens for quick-thinking Roxy and her father. I had just stood there, babbling apologies as Riven stared at me, as though unable to comprehend that I had just thrown my drink at him. Roxy, having spotting the incident, had quickly grabbed Riven by the ear and dragged him towards her father, insisting that he needed to dry off. Klaus had kindly offered to let him use the employee bathroom in the storeroom since he was a (somewhat) friend of a friend.

And now here I was, waiting outside the storeroom like an idiot, desperately trying to figure out what I was going to say to Riven.

_Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just kind of in love with you – oh you didn't realize? I've been in love with you since about November. So because of that, I decided that throwing my drink in your face would prevent me from getting my heart broken. Oops. _

"I'm doomed," I moaned, bonking my head against the wall, "What is wrong with me Roxy? Did I do something bad in a past life to deserve this?" She snorted, shaking her head, long pink hair swishing.

"Don't be such a drama queen. The way I see it, you've dragged this out long enough. Here," she said, holding out a towel, "Give this to him."

I took it, holding it tightly against my body. My feet remained rooted to the floor.

"But, but what if I say something wrong? What if I throw the towel at him? What if I ruin everything?"

Roxy rolled her eyes. "Honestly, if throwing a drink at him makes him hate you for life, then he wasn't that much of a friend to begin with. Now _**go**_!"

I was swiftly booted into the room, crashing right into Riven.

_Oh why does this always happen to __**me**__?_

* * *

I scrambled to my feet, suddenly remembering with remarkable clarity our first meeting. Everything had changed. We hadn't been friends then. I hadn't been in love with Riven then. Riven stood up too, staring wordlessly at me. He had taken off his jacket, exposing his arms (_focus girl!_) and his hair was wet. He must have tried to wash out the pink gunk.

"I brought you a towel," I said weakly, eyes fixed on my feet as I held it out to him.

"I don't need it," he responded, turning to pick up his jacket, which he'd left on a folding table pushed against the wall. I glanced up, surprised.

"But, your hair is wet! You might catch a cold!" I said. It was such a dumb thing to say, but I couldn't help it. After telling Miele that for years, the reflex had never worn off. Riven gave a faint smile.

"Only little kids catch colds." I shook my head, insistent, brandishing the towel at him. Riven arched one eyebrow. I felt myself gripped with a surprising confidence. Seeing that it clearly wasn't getting to him, I gave him a little push with my fingers. It was for his own good.

"Sit," I murmured, trying not to look at his face. He grunted, obviously unused to me telling him what to do, but complied, sitting down on top of the table. He was about level with me that way – I had never realized just how short I was compared to him – so I only had to tiptoe a little to reach his head. Carefully, I began to towel-dry his hair, cheeks heating up. It felt so intimate. I had barely touched Riven before, aside from holding onto his arm, and this was taking things to a whole new level.

_You're just helping him out. That's all. _

Riven tried to bat my hands away, growling, but I held firm. "The more you struggle, the longer this will take," I said softly. Finally, he slumped, wordless, letting me finish my task. "There," I said, smiling, "That's much better. Your hair looks better when it's dry."

Riven looked up at me then. I froze. This was a completely different look from before. It didn't feel predatory, or scary, but so completely and utterly intense and there was _something _else there that made me find it hard to breathe. Because who could breathe when Riven Freeman was staring at you that way?

I dropped my gaze, and began to fold up the towel. "I'm sorry," I said, and the words started flowing out of me faster than I could stop them, "I'm really really sorry. I didn't mean to do that. It just…happened. I couldn't stop myself. I…I didn't want to hear…your answer. I'm sorry Riven."

I stared at my feet, looking at my scuffed flats. I was such a fool. And then, unexpectedly, Riven began to laugh. I gaped at him, completely thrown. "What are you laughing at? I just threw a drink at your face!" I demanded. How could he possibly find that amusing? Didn't he have so much more pride?

He stopped laughing, smirking slightly. "Exactly. Who knew you had that in you?" he responded, shaking his head, "I guess it really is always the quiet ones." I flushed, stamping my foot.

"It wasn't on purpose!" I cried, feeling the situation rapidly getting out of hand. "And how can you just forgive me like that?" Riven frowned, then gestured for me to sit next to him. Hesitantly, I carefully climbed up onto the table, the two of us sitting side by side, leaning against the wall. I tried to keep a gap between us, but he swiftly moved until our legs and sides were brushing against each other. My sides tingled, and I desperately tried to shush them.

_What is he doing? Friends don't act this way. Do they? _

"I'm not angry with you," he started, "I guess…I mean, okay, I was a little angry with you at the start. But I know you didn't do it on purpose. And…I guess I can understand why you did it." I looked at my lap, relief washing over me. I hadn't angered him that much.

He leaned his head against the wall, eyes distant. I watched him, quiet, waiting. Finally, he spoke. "I was talking to Musa earlier…about the past. About whether she still…felt anything. I mean, she was freaking wearing the jacket I gave her and everything. I can't believe she still kept it."

"You gave her your jacket?"

He looked at me. "I never told you?"

"Riven, you didn't tell me anything about you and Musa," I said truthfully.

"Oh". The statement seemed to throw him off a bit. "Yeah. I guess not. My dad gave me this leather jacket, an old bomber jacket – I think he was in a war somewhere, I don't know, he never told me. But my dad gave it to me, and I…gave it to Musa. About a month after we got together."

"When did you two get together?"

"December of sophomore year. Musa was a freshman. I never told you that either?"

I shook my head, fiddling with my skirt.

Riven went silent again. Our conversation started to take that pattern – he'd talk about the past in spurts, like someone trying to cover up a leak with their hands. I listened as he talked about his friends, about Musa, about him and Musa. Their relationship had lasted all the way up to August of last year. That made me think back, because I had been there two months after the breakup, racking my brains for even the slightest hint that Riven had been trying to get over it. I couldn't think of anything, but maybe I hadn't known him enough to tell.

He talked about nights out, about parties, about just taking the train together because it reminded them of how they'd met. Hearing this filled me with a strange sort of emptiness, a regret that I hadn't been around and could only form vague pictures in my mind of what it had been like. The stories all started to bleed into one another. Riven sounded so very far away when he talked about it, like it was another lifetime. One I hadn't been a part of.

Finally, after another spurt of dialogue had ended, and the silence had reasserted itself, I spoke up.

"How did….you two break up?"

I thought for a moment that I had overstepped; he turned and looked at me like he was really realizing that I was here.

"Musa…said you…fought a lot?" I added, wishing I could take back the question.

His shoulders slumped, and he nodded. "Yeah, we did."

"Why?"

"I guess…we just never really trusted each other." Riven ran his fingers through his hair, and I watched him expose the natural black roots underneath. "We just kept having these stupid fights – it was always, who's that guy you were talking to? Why don't you return my calls? Why don't you ever tell me anything? Why do you keep cutting me out? And…then I saw her with Andy and those other guys, and…I mean, I guess I just kept thinking that she was cheating on me…and then we had this huge fight. And then it ended."

He laughed a little, bitter, and then looked at me, and there was this tremendous sadness on his face that I knew he was trying to hide.

"I really was a complete asshole."

I stared at him, wanting to make light of it, but how could you respond to something like that? Especially when it was partly true.

"But you've changed."

My response seemed to only aggravate him further; he ran his hand over his face and looked away. "Tonight was the first night we really talked properly since." He paused. "She told me she snapped her phone in half afterwards. And…I guess…I really understand now what I did to her."

"Do you ever wish that it could have worked out?"

I wasn't really sure why I said it - was I just trying to upset myself? Obviously, neither did Riven, judging from his surprised expression. Maybe it was the way he was talking about it, with this voice that sounded so pained. Maybe it was how soft his voice had gotten, all quiet and uneasy, a sharp contrast to his usual rough way of speaking. Maybe it was his expression, his posture, weak instead of hard, slouched and defeated instead of tough and defiant.

Maybe it was the way he spoke about the past, with this huge air of regret that made me sad just hearing it. That made me wish I could put him back together again.

"No."

The answer caught me off guard. "No?"

"It never would have."

His clarification bothered me. "That's not exactly what I meant."

"It's still no. I mean, I guess, I thought about it for a long time. It would've nice, if we could have made it…" He trailed off, and his eyes were so distant that I was half afraid he might disappear somewhere else entirely. "But I talked to Musa tonight…and think we both knew that we wouldn't have. And I looked at her…and there wasn't anything _there _anymore, you know? Like we really ended everything a long time ago. And tonight was about getting some closure." He frowned. "I don't know what I'm saying anymore."

I reached over and squeezed his hand. "It's okay."

He looked at me. "Thanks Flora."

"You're welcome."

After a long pause, he said it again. "Thanks Flora."

"I didn't do anything," I insisted, running my hands down my skirt. I felt strange inside myself. Like I had just been allowed a glimpse into what really went on inside Riven's head. I ached to do something about it. Riven looked at me.

"You did. Before this, I just…I never learnt to trust people. I mean, what do you expect? My mom dumped me after she told me how much she loved me, and then I grow up with a guy who can't handle his own baggage and doesn't know how to be a real parent. How else was I supposed to turn out?"

There was a frustrated, strange kind of energy infusing Riven, fueling his speech, like he was possessed by something that was finally making everything inside bubble to the surface.

"So I guess that was why everything got screwed up. And then…and then you happened. And I just couldn't figure you out. What was ever in it for you?" Riven looked at me, like he was staring at a puzzle that he was trying to figure out. His words confused me, unnerved me. Like I was losing control of where this conversation was going. "Why'd you help me that day? With that math question?"

I tilted my head, confused. It seemed such a trivial thing, from a long, long time ago. "I mean, you didn't even _like _me. So I kept wondering, why the hell would you do it?"

I frowned, trying to remember, trying to figure out why. The world had shrunk to just Riven and me, in this room, and everything hinged on my answer. "It wasn't because I wanted to be your friend," I said softly, "And it wasn't to get anything. I did it…because you needed help. That was all."

Riven nodded, leaned his head against the wall, as though everything had fallen into place. And I knew it was the truth.

"There's just all this baggage. All this shit. And you just made none of it matter. Like I could erase it and start all over again. You made me want to be better," he said softly, and he looked at me now, our faces only inches apart. "'Cause that's why you do. You fix things. You make things better."

My heartbeat increased. I wanted to tell Riven everything. Everything he had done for me. Everything that I felt about him. I wanted to tell him that I hadn't fixed him; he had fixed himself on his own.

He reached out, his hand moving towards my left cheek, where my scars were. I lost my train of thought then. How could I focus when Riven was, when Riven was…I didn't know what he was going to do. I didn't know anything anymore. His hand drew closer. Five inches. Three. Two. One.

"Oh, I didn't realize you two were still in here!"

We jerked apart. A slightly red-faced Klaus was standing by the door, trying to look everywhere except at us. Riven swore under his breath, his hand dropping to his side. I felt my face heat up. _It's not what it looks like! _I thought, then, _what __**does **__it look like? _

_Like he was going to kiss you! What else?_

K-k-kiss me?

"Um, I'll be g-going now," I blurted out in a rush, grabbing my purse and jumping off the table. My heart was racing, and I didn't want to think about what Klaus had seen. Riven followed me, hands jammed into his pockets. Outside, I spotted Tecna and she held up her watch, giving me a look of disapproval. It was already nearing midnight. Timmy had agreed to give us both a lift back, and I had completely forgotten.

I turned to Riven. I didn't want to leave with something like _that _hanging between us. Our relationship had changed, and I didn't know what direction it was going to take now. "I'll see you on Monday?" I asked, looking directly at him. He nodded, face slightly pink, eyes on the ceiling.

As I headed towards Tecna, I heard Riven's words again. Not the parts about Musa, not the fact that he had gotten over her, because that didn't matter to me anymore, not after seeing just how much it affected Riven. What I heard was, _You make things better. _

And I thought, _not everything. There's still a little bit left that I want to fix._

* * *

(Tecna P.O.V.)

"Do I want to know what was happening inside that storeroom, or is it something we're not supposed to talk about in public?" I asked as we turned another corner. Timmy glanced behind to check on Flora. She was curled up in the backseat, staring at the passing cars. Her head jerked up, mouth forming an 'O'.

"Tecna! We just…talked," she said, pressing her hand against the window, "Just talked and talked." Her eyelids were drooping. I snorted. It was so cheesy.

"Is that why you have such a dopey look on your face?"

"Do…not…" Flora mumbled sleepily, and within a few moments, I heard her breathing grow soft and steady. I shook my head. I was glad that Riven was making her so happy. Even if the very idea of someone like _Riven _being able to make people happy was almost impossible to believe. But he had surprised me. I talked a bit with him during the performance, and he was, perhaps not polite, but not quite as much of a jerk as before. He was actually capable of intelligent conversation.

It was nice to see some people sorting out their lives. Musa was finally starting a stable relationship with her dad, and was making music like she had always dreamed. The look on her face when she'd been singing told me that Musa had found her center. And it was fairly obvious that the dark haired boy, Andy, had a bit of an infatuation with her. For all the teasing, I did not want to push Musa towards getting into a relationship. She would get into one when she was ready to. Still, it was clear that things were finally going well for her.

Flora was much happier than she had been before, and that was good. There was of course, the question of Layla. I had noticed her expression as people danced around us. Secretly, I had been researching to see if there were cases of people who had learnt to walk again after being paralyzed. The results were disheartening. I refused to give up though. I believed strongly that every problem had a solution; I just hadn't found one yet. The sight of my friend, forcing a smile whenever the topic of dancing came up, drove me to continue searching.

And then there was me. I loved my friends. I didn't show it overtly, but they were more precious to me than all the knowledge in the world. But I did think, sometimes, about my old friends. Bloom and Stella. They had changed drastically until the people I saw now could not be reconciled with my memories. Where had they gone, the two girls who were sweet and kind and funny and a little bit crazy? Where were the people who had shared their secrets with me and included me and told me that I was a normal person, and to never let anyone say otherwise?

I exhaled quietly, disliking the depressing turn my thoughts were taking. And then there was my love life. I stole a peek at Timmy, watching the streetlights reflect on his glasses. Dancing with him had been…strange. The bulky cast didn't help me, and all I could manage was an awkward bouncing on my feet. Timmy had been even worse. But that was what I loved about Timmy. That uncomfortable feeling of being in a crowd, of trying to find a way to speak your mind without sounding all wrong, of not knowing what to do when people cried, he got it.

I didn't feel like I had to be some kind of perfect girl around him. I was just too much of a coward to tell him anything.

Timmy looked at me expression. "Are you okay Tecna?"

"I wish Magic existed," I said, "Then all problems could be solved."

"I don't know," he responded, eyes on the road, "Even if there was magic, I don't think it would make things any easier."

* * *

(Roxy P.O.V.)

The sight of a guy sitting at the bar reading a book of love poems irked me. Love seemed to be the thing that everyone in Seattle was obsessed with. I didn't understand it. Even my friends constantly thought about it. Maybe it was because I had never been in love before that I didn't understand the attraction to it. My friends had all the luck in that department.

_Speaking of getting lucky_, I thought, looking at Dad, who still seemed a little pink after walking in on…something. I doubted that Riven and Flora had actually done anything; it was after all, Flora. The poor girl blushed like a fire engine if Riven so much as coughed in her general direction. I found it kind of adorable.

Still though, she was just as obsessed with love as everyone else. Even Musa was as guilty of it. She was still looking for love, even if she didn't want to admit it. _Everyone is trying to pair off. _Frowning, I wiped a glass with more force than was actually needed, and slammed it down. Dad raised his eyebrows but said nothing. The guy reading poetry looked up.

"Did that glass cause you a personal offence?" he asked mildly. He looked somewhat familiar…Tecna's old boyfriend. I remembered him – I secretly referred to him as the 'boring one'. Not that he'd been that bad to talk to – he was actually quite nice to me – but the guy was too stiff. Did he have _any_ interest beyond art and poetry?

"It's not the glass. It's your book," I snapped, gesturing at the thick tome in his hands. He looked down at it, evidently confused. It was strange that he was here so late. The bar officially closed at two, but most people had already left. I wondered why I was even talking to him.

"Your response to poetry seems a bit violent."

"Not the poetry. The _topic_!" I wiped down another glass, glaring daggers at the book.

"So you are opposed to the idea of love? Why is that?"

I made a motion with my hands, finding myself get into the subject. "It just gets…kinda tiresome. It's all everyone ever thinks about and talks about and writes about. Everyone I know is either in a relationship, trying to get into a relationship or searching for a relationship! Isn't there more to life than just love?"

Helia frowned, as though thinking it over. I reached for the remaining glasses, waiting for his response.

"You feel left out." It wasn't a question.

"Left out? Left out of what?"

"Your friends are all either in stable relationships or about to enter one. So they now have less time to spend with you and can participate in activities you cannot, like double dates. They talk about things you have not experienced. They are a part of something you aren't. Therefore, you feel left out." He said this all very carefully.

I stared at him, work temporarily forgotten. _Left out? _That was hardly what I was feeling. At least…I didn't think it was what I was feeling. It made a kind of sense though. After Layla had gotten a boyfriend, my time with her had gone down sharply. The same had happened when Musa had dated Riven. And when they'd talked about their boyfriends to each other, I'd been left with nothing to say.

I deflated, anger forgotten. "I just keep feeling like they'll end up not having any time for me. That I'll become the third wheel."

Helia nodded, considering. "Well, one solution would be to find a boyfriend, if you want to be able to relate more to what they're going through."

"Great idea Helia. I'll just grab some random guy in school and date him and it'll make me feel _all better_," I snapped, anger returning. _What is with this guy? Where did Mr. I'm-A-Stick-in-the-Mud go? _

"I didn't mean in that way. But I honestly think that you have nothing to be worried over. Your friends are not just going to forget you. It may seem a little difficult now as you all adjust to this. But everything will be alright in the end." He sounded so very sincere. It made me almost a little uncomfortable.

"Listen to you, you sound like a horoscope. _"There will be difficulty in adjusting, but the planets will align and all will be well_," I said, trying to make light of the situation. The problem with Helia was that he was always serious about everything. It made someone like me, who was more used to taking things lightly, uneasy.

Helia laughed. "I have not been told that before."

"Your friends clearly need to find new material then."

Helia gave a small smile. I cocked my head, studying him. "You need a haircut."

"I'm sorry?" he said.

"Your hair's covering your face. How's anyone going to be able to tell what you're thinking if they can't see your face?" I leant a bit closer. "Plus, it makes you look like a girl."

Helia made a funny sound, like that was a sore subject. Well, he did have very delicate features. _And most girls would kill for pretty hair like that. How unfair. _"Anyways, thanks for the advice. Even if it is kind of cheesy."

I scooped up the remaining glasses and brought them to the cupboard, and when I turned back, Helia had closed his book and seemed to be deep in thought.

I frowned, and then went back to stacking glasses. I had a lot to think about as well.

* * *

**Ugh. I still don't feel like it's really up to snuff. Also, I feel like a totally evil writer. But the kiss will come! I promise! And you won't have to wait a year for it! Man, I'm so cruel. But I swear, this is all leading up to a happy ending. Well, somewhat happy ending. Yup, I'm an evil, evil writer:) Also, I honestly feel like I miswrote Helia's character in earlier chapters. He's not a bad person, and I think I wanted to show how the character's misjudged him, and perhaps how a lot of this story started off with people misjudging one another. I apologize if the dialogue between him and Flora was kind of stilted. I guess that shows why I dislike their pairing - they just seem to lack chemistry. **

**It's also kind of interesting because earlier this month, I told my friend that I liked the pairing of Flora and Riven. Her response was that Riven would make Flora cry all the time. That didn't sit well with me, primarily because I think Flora's got a lot more of a backbone than that. If anything, it's Musa who is more emotionally fragile than Flora is. And I think, like what Riven says here, then having someone like Flora in his life would encourage him to try to be a better person. Not that I'm saying Musa is a bad person, but I don't see her ever encouraging Riven to try to get his act together - he only seems to get his act together when their relationship threatens to end, and then he just goes right back to the status quo afterwards. Sorry, just a little shipping rant here. And personally, I just think Flora and Riven would be much more adorable and interesting together.**

**Anyways, I hope everyone is satisfied by how everything has been wrapped up so far, as well as all the dialogue. I've never written so much dialogue before. It's kind of fun - all the things that aren't being said. I hope it was good enough. Please, please, if there is anyone still reading this, please review and tell me what you think. I really appreciate every single one. **


End file.
